The Portrait
by Sweet Little Bullet
Summary: Hermione had never been impulsive so she didn't know what had possessed her to buy the portrait that looked just like Draco Malfoy. Nevermind the fact that the very same man from the portrait started starring in her dreams every night or that she started to feel something for the man she encountered. Is it all her imagination or is there something much more sinister going on? EWE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works or characters. Unfortunately.**

 **A/N: It's my birthday! And you all get a present! Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Well, what do you expect really?" Ginny asked as she shook out her long red hair, "It is my brother you're talking about."

Hermione sighed as she followed the young witch and sipped the warmed drink in her hand, thanking Merlin that some- now filthy rich- wizard had thought a charmed to-go cup was a brilliant idea.

"I know, but I hoped he would have grown up by now. I mean, it's been five years," she explained, "And anyway, it's not like I'm asking him to buy me a ring and get me pregnant. I only want to consolidate to one flat."

Ginny hummed quietly around her own drink as they walked through Diagon Alley together. Hermione hated venting to her friend, especially since she knew Ginny was always in the middle of Harry and Ronald's rows as well but aside from Luna and occasionally Hannah, Ginny was about the only woman friend Hermione had. Most of her time was spent at her job at the ministry and what little wasn't, was spent with Ron or Harry.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter because he's already said he won't give up his flat," she said tersely as Ginny stopped outside the small little shop on the corner that had popped up sometime in the past few months.

"He just wants somewhere to go when he knows you're right but doesn't want to apologize," Ginny teased, "Have you been in here?"

Hermione smirked and turned to look at the little shop once more. It reminded her, if she was being quite honest with herself, of Burgin and Burkes. However, this little shop was less dedicated to all manners of dark things and more to the stuff you might find in your grandmother's attic.

"No, I haven't," she said simply.

Ginny shrugged and walked in, Hermione following close behind. Her eyes travelled over the vast array of artifacts housed inside and she wondered on how in the world they had come to be under one roof. She lost track of her companion at some point but she continued on, perusing a shelf of dusty old books with interest and running her finger over the top of a chest that seemed to have a faint glow emanating from within. Nothing captured her interest for long though as her weary brown eyes took everything in. Until….

She stopped, cocking her head to the side as she stared at the painting on the wall.

It was fascinating, she thought, how quickly it had caught her attention and she smirked to herself as she realized why. It was a portrait, very tastefully created, in a likeness of none other than the boy who had made it his life's mission to torment her. What was even more curious, however, wasn't the fact that there was a portrait of Draco Malfoy hanging in the shop but that it wasn't a magical portrait at all; it was muggle done.

She turned her head to the other side, taking in the brush strokes that had beautifully created the work and felt a shiver run down her spine as she met the grey gaze of the man looking back at her. She tightened her hold on her drink and took a long sip from the half empty cup before she stepped forward and ran her finger along the ornate frame.

There was just something about it, she decided, something that seemed to pull her in. Something that refused to let her go.

"See something you like?" she whirled around then, meeting the gaze of the kind old woman before her.

"Oh, no. Sorry, I just-" she stammered, yanking her hand back from the frame and tucking it into the pocket of her pea coat, ignoring the chill that seemed to seep through her.

"It's a beautiful piece that, innit?" the witch asked, using her knotted cane to point behind Hermione where the portrait rested, "Shame that it's tucked away in 'ere with no one to admire it."

"Any more admirers and his head might not fit in the frame," Hermione muttered to herself as she turned to look back at the painting despite herself.

 _There was just something about it._

"Oh, there you are. I'd wondered where you'd gone off to," Ginny's voice sounded and Hermione turned to look at the witch who looked as though she had fought a battle- and barely survived- her hair standing on all ends. "I think there's a boggart in one of your chests back there."

The old woman nodded but said nothing more and Hermione felt her gaze drifting back to the picture.

"What are we looking at?"

Hermione gestured to the picture and Ginny turned, her own head cocking to the side, "Is that-"

"You see it too?"

Ginny laughed then, "Who the bloody hell would want a picture of that ferret hanging in their house?"

Hermione grinned at her friend, shaking her head slightly and taking a distracted drink out of her cup, her eyes still entranced on the painting as she tried to come up with a suitable answer.

She was saved from it however as the old woman cleared her throat and Ginny asked a question about a nearby clock that reminded her of her mother's and Hermione had to forcefully tear her eyes away from the picture as the pair left.

* * *

Hermione told herself it wasn't weird as she stopped by the shop the next day. She had been looking for a book at Flourish and Botts- unsuccessfully- but as she walked back towards the Leaky she couldn't help but stop outside the door to the small store. She realized, with a smile, that she hadn't even thought to look at the name of the shop the day previous and now she smiled as she read the large sign proclaiming it _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_. She wondered if it was a coincidence or if the owner was somehow versed in muggle children's films.

She bit her lip as she contemplated, looking over her shoulder once, before she stepped forward and in through the welcoming door.

The portrait was still there where she had left it the day before and it still had the aura of sadness that seemed to settle over it. She ran her finger along the ornate frame once more before she heard the shop keeps voice coming from the rear of the store. She paid the painting one last glance before she turned on her heel and hurried away.

She managed to stay away for four days after that, until she had remembered- belatedly- that she told Harry she would bring the desserts for dinner that night. She had hurriedly made her way to the bake shop in Diagon alley and ordered some of her favorite tarts before she aimlessly made her way back down the alley- with plenty of time to spare. She told herself she wasn't going to stop in _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ , but even as she thought it, her feet found their way there and before she knew it she had found her way to the painting once more.

She couldn't deny it any longer, the effect that stupid thing seemed to have on her. She would have liked to explain it away to a love of art but it was something else. Something she couldn't quite shake though she knew she needed to.

She almost reached out and took the painting right then and carted it away to her flat. Instead she pushed herself away, browsing through the lot of castoffs that were strewn around until, with a sigh, she realized she was running late and she hurriedly made her way out of the shop and into an alley where she disapparated right to Harry and Ginny's front porch.

She didn't dare tell the witch about where she had been, instead choosing to say she had gotten held up at work before she presented her best friend with the box of promised baked goods and settled in to dinner, ignoring the fact that Ronald had yet to show.

So it came as no surprise the next day, as Hermione walked towards the leaky to meet Ginny and Hannah Abbot-Longbottom for a quick lunch date on a rare afternoon off from the ministry that she thought of the portrait. She thought of it as she listened, half-heartedly, to Hannah's tales of Neville's students and Ginny's exploits with the Holyhead Harpies. Her mind wandered to it when she brushed off Ginny's questions about her and Ron and again when she told them about the promotion she was aiming for at the ministry. She decided, as she finished her lunch, that she was going to figure out just what hold the bloody thing had over her if it was the last thing she did.

It wasn't until later, after their lunch at the Leaky had been consumed, Hannah had gone back to work and Ginny had prattled something about meeting Harry and Ron for a pickup match that Hermione turned and walked back to the shop.

The door tinkled her arrival but she didn't stop as she walked through the stacks of miscellaneous items to where the painting sat.

"I thought I might see you again," the woman said and Hermione turned to look at her, "I can tell interest when I see it dear."

Hermione didn't say anything as she walked forward and gently pulled the frame off the wall, her eyes trained on the grey orbs looking back up at her; a sadness seeming to emulate from within the painting itself. Hermione smiled and turned back to the woman, handing her the frame.

It wasn't until she arrived home and pulled the brown paper off of it, that she realized she had just bought a portrait of Draco Malfoy and had no idea what she was going to do with it.

She couldn't be sure what had drawn her to the portrait in the first place, but she realized as she set it up against the long wall of bookshelves in her living room, that it hadn't dulled since she brought it home. In fact, in the comfort of her own flat, it was hard to tear her eyes away from the thing.

In the end she ended up making dinner- leftover takeout- and watching her favorite program before she decided to call it a night. She was irritated, though less than she had been before, of Ronald's absence but she found she cared less as she stood up to head to her bedroom.

As an afterthought she turned and walked to the foyer, turning the lock on her door with a resounding click and then used her wand to set up wards ensuring she would have the proper time to stew before her boyfriend decided to show back up.

She nodded to herself once she was satisfied and with one last look at the portrait, she turned in for the night.

* * *

"You bought what?" Ginny asked loudly over their coffee the next day.

Hermione grimaced at her friends tone and looked at the other patrons of the muggle coffee shop they were visiting, "Ginny!"

"I'm sorry, I just thought I heard you say you bought a portrait of Draco Fucking Malfoy."

Hermione sighed and accepted the coffee the barista handed to her before turning to nod her head at one of the nearby tables.

She waited until Ginny was seated before she cast a quick muffliato and turned to her friend.

Ginny seemed to have the same idea, "Please tell me you're using it for target practice."

"Wha- No, no I just… something about it Gin," she said. "I just couldn't leave it there."

Ginny raised a brow and sipped on her drink contemplatively and Hermione felt the blush rise to her cheeks.

"You're judging me," she finally said. "Stop judging me."

Ginny chuckled, "I am and I won't. Why would you want that in your home? And what will Ron think?"

Hermione felt her eyes widen at that. Of course, she had never really thought to ask Ron about home decorating before but she had a feeling this particular addition might touch a sore spot.

"Ugh, I don't- I didn't…" she rested her forehead on her palm as she stared into the dark liquid on the table before her.

Ginny let out a laugh then and Hermione looked up with a small groan as Ginny shook her head, "So what if Ron hates it, besides, it's not like you're going to keep it."

Hermione nodded, "Right. You're right."

Though, as she said good-bye to the redhead witch only a short while later, she realized she had never thought of getting rid of the thing.

Not once.

* * *

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend as he stood in front of her, a bag of takeout from her favorite place held in his hands.

"Hermione-" he started, and she shook her head.

"Save it," she sighed but she stepped aside to let him pass by.

They were quiet as they worked together in the kitchen to get their food together and then again as they ate at the small table in her kitchen.

"Look," he finally started, "I know you want us to move in together but I'm just-"

"Not ready," she said tensely, picking up her wine glass to take a generous gulp. "Ronald…"

"I just need time," he pleaded. "I- I've been with you forever Hermione. I mean, it feels like we've been together since we were eleven."

She levelled him a glare.

"In a good way of course," he amended. "Can't we just enjoy being together without... all of that? I want you Hermione," he reached out to grasp her hand in his, "I've always wanted you but after Fred."

He choked up a little and she felt her heart stutter. It was his brother, his families loss, but she had always felt close to the lost twin and while she let the family grieve, she did as well.

"I know," she finally croaked.

It was a conversation they had regularly, especially when the topic of the future came up. Fred had told Ron to live in the now and Ron wanted to live up to that. She could understand his desire to make his brother proud but she also knew she couldn't wait on him forever. She wouldn't.

"Thanks Hermione," he smiled, letting go of her hand to finish his pad thai and she shook her head as she delved back into her food.

It wasn't until later, as they sat on her couch, his head on her lap, that he finally saw the portrait.

"What the bloody hell is that?" he asked, sitting bolt upright.

"What?" she asked confused, at first, by his outburst. "Oh- that's nothing. I just-"

"Why do you have a portrait of that ferret in your flat Hermione?"

She rolled her eyes then and leaned forward to grab her wine glass, knowing she would need it, "Ronald, it's just a portrait-"

"Of Draco Fucking Malfoy-" he seethed.

She groaned, "why does everyone keep saying it like that?"

"Just tell me what you're playing at," he snapped.

She felt her face grow hot then, her shoulders stiffen under his intense glare, and she crossed her arms over her chest, huffing in defiance. "I have no idea what you're talking about Ronald Weasley."

"Of course you don't-" he muttered as he stood up. "Get rid of it."

"No," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Ron's face paled before quickly turning a shade of red she had only seen once or twice before. "I don't want that- that _thing_ sitting here. I don't want it around you and I don't want it in our flat."

Hermione should have agreed. She should have told him he could toss it out with the morning rubbish. Instead she crossed the room, brushing past the man on her way to the door before she opened it and gestured out into the hallway. "If I may remind you Ronald, it's still _my_ flat and as such, I will decorate it with whatever I see fit."

Ron's face grew three shades more red and the look he gave her might have been enough to kill a mandrake on the spot, "You're kicking me out? Over a bloody fucking portrait of Malfoy of all people? You're mental!"

She raised a brow, not lowering her hand that was still showing him the exit before he finally swore and grabbed his robes from where he had tossed them upon his entrance and left in a flourish.

Hermione was shaking as she slammed the door shut behind him, the action rattling the walls of her living room and knocking over the portrait she had kept leaning against her bookshelf. She rolled her eyes as she crossed the room and set it up once more. She paused as she examined it, holding it out at arm's length because- but no, she thought as she set it down back in its resting place. Because for a moment, when she picked it up, she could have sworn the man in the picture was smirking at her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works.**

 **A/N: All mistakes are my own. Please let me know what you think!**

 **Chapter 2**

She was still fuming the next morning as she made her breakfast for one and ate it on the couch in the living room. As determined as she was _not_ to stare at her picture as she ate her toast, she realized she had done nothing but. She sighed as she stood up and wiped her hands on her pajama pants, crossing the room and picking up the heavy frame.

"What is it with you?" she asked, only to grimace as she realized she was talking to a muggle painting.

She spent the next several minutes looking over the entire work. There was no artist signature, as was usually found on paintings of this caliber, nor were there any other distinguishing marks. The frame, heavy and inlaid with- she realized with widening eyes- real gold, held no distinctive indications either. She sat the painting down on her couch, standing in front of it with her arms crossed and her fingers propping up her chin as she studied it. There had to be _something_ , she thought.

Finally, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she grabbed her wand and cast a quick spell that would allow her to see anything spells, charms, or hexes tied to the object.

"Damn," she swore as that too came up empty and she frowned as she looked at the picture, "Looks like I'm all out of ideas, unless you've got any."

She grimaced again and tossed herself down into the armchair opposite the portrait.

"I'm talking to a portrait; a portrait of a man who hated me in school. Ron's right, I am mental."

She shook her head and pushed herself up, determined to go about her day. She picked up the portrait, carefully supporting its full weight as she glanced around the room until she found it. The only truly bare wall in her flat was directly across from her bedroom but it was also the only place large enough to hang the large photo and she wasn't sure she wanted to chance it getting knocked over again. Despite not having found any evidence of tampering, she still wasn't all that convinced that there wasn't something sinister lurking within its depths. Well, besides the subject anyway.

She grinned as she hung up the photo, using her wand so as not to damage the walls, and then stepped back to admire her handiwork.

It seemed like it belonged, she thought to herself as she nodded and dusted her hands together, like the man in the photo hadn't spent his formative years bullying her relentlessly. She trailed her fingers over the bottom of the picture one last time before she set out to tidy up her messy flat.

* * *

"Good Morning Mal," she sang as she finished getting ready for work and stepped out of her room, smiling at the portrait.

She was definitely barmy, she decided. It had been days since she had bought the thing and then proceeded to hang it in her flat. In the time it had been staring at her she had decided that she couldn't continue to call the man in the portrait the name of the boy she had detested in school. It seemed… wrong. So she had tested out nicknames. "Painted Malfoy" had been too long, "Draco" was too weird- even for her, and finally, she had settled on "Mal."

Mal, as it were, was rather good company in Ronald's absence; a silent companion as she caught up on cleaning and reading and her guilty reality television show pleasure. Despite the fact that the painting never spoke back to her- for which she was grateful as she would definitely be checking herself into St. Mungo's if it did- she couldn't deny that just having it around made her feel, different.

Less alone.

Which was why she almost felt bad about leaving it alone to go to work.

"You're being a nutter," she argued with herself as she fixed her breakfast and gathered her things just as quickly, "It's just a bloody painting."

She nodded to herself as she said it and pushed herself out the door, locking it behind her without a second thought.

* * *

"Hermione!" she twirled around to see Harry pushing through the throng of ministry officials, his face red with the effort and she laughed as she stepped over to the side to allow him easier access. "We missed you yesterday at the Burrow!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I presume Ronald didn't tell anyone then?"

Harry quirked a brow.

"I sent him an owl telling him I wouldn't be coming unless he apologized but…"

"Oh, that. Yeah, he mentioned something about you going barmy."

She scoffed, "I'm not-"

Harry held his hands up in front of him, "Never said you were! Anyway, does this mean you two are off again?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, her eyes drifting up to look at the fountain that trickled down in the middle of the atrium, "I don't know Harry."

She wished she could tell him they would always be on again but after five years with the man she knew there would always be _something_.

"Well, whatever it is you know you can still come to the Burrow. I mean, if it saves me from being the center of Molly's attentions."

Hermione laughed at that and allowed Harry to lead her through the throng of people towards their offices before they both parted with the promise of grabbing lunch later hanging between them.

* * *

She was absolutely knackered when she arrived home that evening, it wasn't enough that they were trying to pass legislation that would create Werewolf reform they also had to try to push house elf laws through at the same time and Hermione, for what it was worth, felt like she had been pulled in seven different directions. She hadn't even been able to grab lunch with Harry, the ever growing pile of memos on her desk too great to justify the break and by the time she had left for the day she had at least put a dent in the parchment that littered her office.

Changing out of her robes she settled into her pyjamas- an old t-shirt of Ronalds and her favorite pair of flannel pants- she didn't even have the gumption to order takeaway, instead opting on a cheese and pickle sandwich in front of the telly as her eyes grew heavier and heavier.

* * *

She knew she was dreaming almost as soon as she opened her eyes. She was no longer in her living room, lounging on her couch, and she looked around in awe at the scene she had wound up in.

She hadn't been back to Hogwarts in years, having graduated after finishing her last year and taking her NEWTS. Now, she found herself in the library, the stacks and tables completely empty and silent save for the sound of a fire crackling in the large fireplace.

"Wondered when you would show up," Hermione whirled around then, a scream catching in her throat.

"Malfoy?" The man shrugged, his hands tucked deep into his pockets and she realized, as she took him in that he was wearing the same collared shirt he wore in the painting hanging in her house. Realization dawned on her then, "I hate him."

Malfoy quirked a brow.

Hermione sighed, "Ronald told me I was barmy for keeping that painting and all I could think about was how I wasn't going mental over it and now…now I'm dreaming about it."

Malfoy managed to look confused and Hermione worried, for a moment that her mind had really gone off the deep end. Perhaps it was the long hours at work or too many of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes slipped into the Sunday dinners as unwitting test subjects. Either way.

She needed to wake up; she told herself, closing her eyes shut tightly as she repeated the mantra.

"Uh… are you alright?" Malfoy's voice asked and she opened her eyes to meet his deep gray gaze.

"Just trying to wake up," she nodded.

Malfoy smirked, "Afraid it's not that simple."

Hermione scowled. "So what? I just have to stay here until I wake up on my own."

Malfoy merely shrugged and moved to pass by her. She was surprised that he didn't bump into her, trying to purposefully knock her down. Perhaps her dream Malfoy was kinder than the one who had made her school days hell. She watched as the man sat down in one of the plush seats near the fire, stretching out his long, lithe legs in front of him as he settled down.

She debated for half a second before she too sat down with him, pulling her own legs underneath her as she eyed her surroundings curiously.

It was the same library from her school days at Hogwarts. The same place that had been a sanctuary for her as a child thrown into a world she knew nothing about. Yet, it was different; somehow.

She looked back to Malfoy sitting beside her, his legs crossed at the ankles as he watched the flames flicker and dance against the wood before them and she wondered when had the scrawny, pointy boy grown up.

"What?" she startled as she realized he was looking at her questioningly.

"Uh, nothing." She stammered, "Just wondering, why you're dressed like that."

Malfoy looked down at his self and then back up at her, "Is there a problem with my clothing?"

"No," she shook her head. "It's just- it's muggle clothing."

"Yes Granger, I know what it is," he said. "In any case it's better than whatever it is that you're wearing."

Hermione looked down at herself, only then realizing she was still wearing what she had thrown on after work. The shirt had been one of Ronald's first muggle clothing pieces from some band Harry had taken him to seen not long after the war. The material was soft and stretchy and she had worn it nearly threadbare and there was an ink stain near the bottom hem from where she had fallen asleep doing a crossword puzzle. She huffed, "They're my pyjamas, if you don't remember this is a _dream_."

He quirked a brow again but said nothing more and instead turned back to the fireplace.

Hermione waited, the silence nearly suffocating, before she finally cleared her throat. "Is there really no way to get out of here?"

Malfoy shook his head.

Hermione groaned.

"We could pass the time though," he supplied and Hermione thought, for a moment, that he sounded hesitant, scared. As though she might reject his offer.

"How?"

He turned back to the fire, nodding his head and Hermione was surprised when she turned back to see a table had appeared before them, a wizards chess set laid out before them.

"How-" she started but shook her head as she sat forward to claim her side of the board and Malfoy did the same.

* * *

She was definitely mental, Hermione thought as she moved her piece on the board and looked up to meet Malfoy's gaze. She was dreaming about Draco Malfoy and he was being- well, not kind _persay_ but not intolerable. Even more so, she found she didn't _mind_ talking to this Malfoy.

If only he had been like this in school their lives might have turned out much differently. She almost rolled her eyes at herself as soon as the thought had crossed her mind. She was sitting in a dream, playing wizards chess with Draco Malfoy. Of course he would be nice to her. It was her imagination after all. Though, she had to admit, it was a far better option than the nightmare it could have cooked up.

"You're thinking too hard." Malfoy said, his voice gruff and she looked up to see him staring at her peculiarly.

"What?"

"When you get lost in concentration you get this little crease between your eyebrows…" he trailed off as he looked back down to the board, deciding his next move.

She opened her mouth to ask how he could possibly know that when she didn't even know it herself when a banging on the door stopped her. "What is that?" she asked instead.

Draco looked up, "What is what?"

"That banging…" she started, moving to stand up to head to the large doors the sound was emanating from.

"Granger, wait!" Malfoy called out, his voice barely heard over the banging that had started once more.

Hermione turned to see him hurrying to his feet just as she reached out to touch the handle and as though she were being pulled from an icy lake, she awoke.

The television was still on, her sandwich still on the table before her sofa where she had left it, and her neck ached in the worst way. She sat up, stretching out her protesting muscles as the knocking on the door started once more.

"I'm coming!" she called as she stood from her seat and hurried to answer it before whoever was on the other side decided to take matters into their own hands.

"Oh good, you're still here." Ginny said as Hermione answered the door.

"Obviously," Hermione said but stepped aside to let the witch through before she turned and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"I was hoping to catch you before you went to work. Mind if I stay here for a bit?"

Hermione shot her friend a glance as she filled the teapot with water and set it on the stove, "What's going on?"'

Ginny sighed and shrugged before she pulled herself up to sit on the countertop, her legs dangling over the side, "Harry and I had a row."

"About?" Hermione asked, using her wand to pull out the ingredients for a simple breakfast she could eat on the go.

"He wants to get married, have children and I'm just not sure I'm ready for that… and yes, I know I sound like Ronald but I _do_ want those things just… not yet."

The teapot whistled then and Hermione turned to pour her and Ginny a cup, ignoring the sting that she felt when she thought of Ginny's words on her brother.

"I just…" Ginny started quietly, "I want to be known as something other than _Harry Potter's_ wife."

"Did you tell him that?" Hermione asked, handing the finished cup to the witch and taking a drink of her own before turning to head to her bedroom.

She heard Ginny slide off the counter behind her as they walked down the short hall to her bedroom. "Are you joking me? He already hates that people practically worship the ground he walks on, I don't think he could handle knowing how much his reputation precedes him."

Hermione smiled as she changed into her work robes and Ginny laid herself out on Hermione's bed, her long red hair fanning out around her. "Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need but I do think you should talk to Harry. He'll understand."

Ginny propped herself up on her elbows then as Hermione grabbed her bag from the chair in the corner of her room.

"I have to run, just lock up if you leave," Hermione said as she headed towards the door.

Ginny nodded but froze, tilting her head to the side before she said "Why is Malfoy's picture hanging up in your hallway?"

Hermione grimaced as she glanced at the picture.

"And why does it look different."

Hermione realized, at the same time, that Ginny was right. There was absolutely no denying it this time that the portrait was different. Draco Malfoy was smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works.**

 **A/N: Is anyone still there? Sorry for the long wait! I have no excuses other than that I've been in kind of a funk! You're words and reviews mean the world to me and encourage me along this crazy road!**

 **Chapter 3**

They were no longer in the library at Hogwarts this time and Hermione sat up with a start as she realized the change.

It had been an absolute nightmare at work today and apparently she was going to continue that in her sleep as well.

She was sitting on a white chaise, the fire crackling beside her was the only light in the room save for what little filtered through the large paned windows on the wall farthest from her and she knew, as she looked up at the gaudy chandelier, just where she was.

Swallowing she bit back against the hot swell of anger and bile that rose up her throat, followed by the inkling of fear that always seemed to crop up in these dreams as she waited for the witch she knew would soon burst in.

As if on cue the door opened and she closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the maniacal smile for just a while longer.

"Have you finally lost it?" she heard instead and she cracked one eye open to see Draco Malfoy looking at her quizzically.

"I- don't…where is she?" she asked, looking behind him.

" _she?_ " he asked before realization dawned on his face and he shook his head, "I'm- I didn't even- Here."

Before Hermione could so much as blink the scene had changed and she was no longer sitting in the room she had been tortured in. Instead she was sitting on one of the plush seats back in the library.

"Better?" Malfoy asked and Hermione noted that his voice didn't sound as haughty as she would have expected.

Despite the fact that it was a dream, that the man before her was a figment of her imagination, she couldn't bring herself to show weakness to him. Instead she shook her head and crossed the room, "Would be better if you weren't in it."

Malfoy, to her surprise, was grinning at her when she looked up.

"Can that be arranged?" she smirked as she moved to set up the chess board once more.

"Afraid not-" he started.

She rolled her eyes as she muttered, "This is ridiculous. I have absolutely lost my marbles."

"Lost what?" he asked.

"My mind. I'm barmy, mental, crazy to dream of you."

Draco smirked as he moved to sit opposite her, "But you still had these marbles the last time you were here?"

"Last night?" she asked.

"Was it really only last night?" he replied as he set up his own pieces, ignoring her expression.

"Yes-"

He made a little noise under his breath and she took the time to study him. She had been right in her earlier assessment and in the painting that the man had grown into his angles and points. His hair was longer now, though not so long so as to resemble the elder Malfoy. As he put his pieces on the board she noted how the fireplace cast the lights along his porcelain skin; how the shadows of his eyelashes touched his cheekbones and she wondered- briefly- if his lashes had ever tangled together so great was their length. She knew witches- and muggles- who would have paid top dollar for lashes like that.

"You know, if you like what you see you could take a picture. It would last longer-" Malfoy said and she realized- only then- that he had finished putting his pieces on the board and was now smirking at her conceitedly.

"And I'll have you know a picture of you is exactly what got me into this mess in the first place," she snapped back.

To her great surprise Malfoy let out a laugh at that. She had spent many years at Hogwarts in the vicinity of Draco Malfoy and quite honestly, had been the butt of many of his jokes. She knew, in great detail, what Draco Malfoy's laugh sounded like and she had never been fond of the sound.

This was different, however. She found the corners of her lips pulling up as he tilted his head back slightly to let out the sound and she saw the muscles in his throat stretch a touch to accommodate. She turned away then, burying her mouth into her shoulder as she fought the urge to stare at the man before her. She had to hand it to herself, her imagination was quite incredible.

They started playing then, their conversation halted as each of them tried to best the other. She realized, early on, that Draco Malfoy was out of practice and she pounced on that. She had spent many a night playing with Ronald and he had been surprised when she had bested him the night previous. Tonight, however, he was already pulling ahead.

She narrowed her eyes, "You've been practicing."

He merely shrugged as his piece advanced.

"You were shite last night…" she said in disbelief and wondering why her mind would let her lose. She detested losing.

"Time goes slower here," the man finally explained in a low voice. "Had to find something to do with my time."

She was confused, of course, because it was a dream world. A figment of her own bored and obviously convoluted mind that had developed from whatever hold that portrait had over her.

"Your move Granger," Malfoy finally said and she was pulled away from her thoughts of the dream world- and the portrait- as she continued her fight to best Draco Malfoy at chess.

* * *

When next she opened her eyes she groaned, stretching out her aching muscles and relishing the hiss and pops that it elicited.

She had spent had spent the night playing chess with Draco Malfoy- and failed spectacularly. Something niggled at the back of her mind as she laid there thinking about him. She remembered their time together as he beat her game after game, and how she had made him swear on Merlin's pants that he wouldn't practice anymore without her but there was something there; just out of her reach that felt like she should remember. It was like the time George had given her forgetful figs; the answer seeming fuzzy and distorted. She was saved from having to push any further as her door opened and Ginny bounded in.

"I brought scones!" she called and Hermione yawned as she moved to sit up just as the witch jumped on her bed. "Did you sleep well?"

Hermione nodded as she pulled the paper bag in her friends hand towards her and dug out a raspberry scone. "I did, I-" she paused as she debated with herself, her eyes drifting to the portrait opposite the wall where Draco Malfoy was still sitting, smiling. "I dreamt I played chess with Draco Malfoy."

Ginny laughed around a bite of her own pastry, "Please tell me you beat the slimy git."

"No," Hermione sighed, "Actually I didn't-"

"Oh," Ginny shrugged, "Can't win them all I guess."

Hermione chuckled, "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you'd gone home when you weren't here last night."

Ginny grimaced, "Not exactly… I mean, I did go home. I was _going_ to talk to Harry but he was in a foul mood so I just grabbed some clothes and came back here."

"You should have woken me," Hermione started.

Ginny shook her head, "It's no big deal, I'll give him a day or so to stew and then I'll talk to him. Besides I peeked in last night and you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you. Which reminds me, Ron stopped by last night."

Hermione fought the urge to groan as she pulled herself up, "What did he say?" she asked before she shoved the rest of her scone into her mouth and got up to get ready for work.

"That he's an arse and he's sorry and he wishes you would answer his owls." Ginny repeated mechanically. "Which, I agree with the first bit…"

Hermione laughed as she pulled on her robes, "And the last?"

Ginny again shrugged as she pulled another pastry out of the bag and took a bite, chewing slowly before she answered, "I think that you can't wait around for my brother forever. As much as I would love to call you my sister- I think you deserve someone who w _ants_ to be with you."

Hermione gulped, "And you don't think Ron does?"

Ginny shook her head, "That's not what I mean, Ron loves you. Everyone can see that… " she trailed off and Hermione felt the knot in her gut untwist ever so slightly. "I just think you should talk to him. Eventually."

Hermione exhaled and nodded as she grabbed her wand from the bedside table and stored it in her pocket, "I think you're right. Also, no matter what you are already my sister."

The redhead witch smiled broadly at that and Hermione answered in kind before she grabbed her bag and set it on her shoulder, throwing a quick reminder to lock the flat when she left before she headed to the ministry, not even looking at the portrait once.

* * *

Hermione felt as though she had been hit by the Knight bus as she floo'd home. The past two weeks had been hell at work and she'd hardly had any time to herself. In fact, the only time she did have was when she would close her eyes and meet Draco in the library. They were her brief reprieve from the constant mess her life had become and she couldn't even stand to think how backwards that made her. In any case she hadn't been feeling well all day, her chest weighed a thousand tons and she was pretty sure there were galleons on her eyelids making them hard to open. Even three doses of Pepper Up potion hadn't done much for the witch and she had valiantly worked through the day until her boss had caught her dozing in her chair and had sent her home with express orders to s _tay there_ until she was well.

She hadn't so much as argued as she had grabbed her things and headed home. She was also pleased to find the note from Ginny on her counter as she made herself a glass of water and sat on her couch to read it.

 _'_ _Mione,_

 _Went home with Harry. Finally._

 _Will owl you tomorrow for lunch plans._

 _Love,_

 _Gin._

 _P.S._

 _Owl Ron back so he'll stop owling me._

 _-Harry_

She smiled at the last bit and crumpled up the paper, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the rubbish bin before she collapsed back on the couch. She didn't even have the strength to get up and change as she summoned her blanket and pillow and settled in for a night in in front of the telly.

That night, she didn't even dream.

* * *

The days bled together with pepper up potion and dreamless sleep draught and Hermione finally felt more like herself. She had been dangerously low on Pepper Up potion and Rest-up Restorative and she was thankful that she could at least go to Diagon Alley to stock up without worrying that she was spreading the newest Wizarding plague around the general population. She did just that, stopping only on the way back to her building to grab some soup from her favorite deli down the lane before she finally headed back to her flat. The simple trip left her feeling drained and she changed into her pyjamas and ate her soup in bed before she settled in with a book before her eyes drifted close and she fell asleep.

"Where have you been?" he asked as soon as she had opened her eyes to find herself in the library.

"Excuse me?" she bit out, turning round to face him as the air left her lungs.

He looked a mess and she couldn't help but think back to their sixth year as she took in his appearance. It looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, his hair unkempt and his muggle clothing wrinkled.

"You stopped coming-"

She faltered at the sound of his voice and the anger she felt at his tone upon her arrival slowly ebbed away, "I was ill."

He looked up then, meeting her gaze, "Are you alright?"

She quirked a brow, "Why do you care?"

He laughed the sound dry and he pulled his hands from his pockets to gesture around. "Do you not get it yet?"

"Get what?"

"Get _this_ ," he pointed at the room around them, "Why do you think we're here?"

"Because this is my subconscious… because I felt most at home, most safe in the library at Hogwarts."

"And the second night you came to me? In the manor?" he questioned.

"Because I'd had a bad day, when I have bad days I have nightmares about that night."

His expression faltered then, his pale eyebrows creasing together, he looked almost… _worried_ "Do you have those often?"

She shrugged, "Not as many as I used to. Not after the counseling and the stress techniques we learned.."

"We?"

She nodded, "Well, yes. We all took them; Harry, Ron, Neville, Luna, Ginny, me, everyone. It helped; with the nightmares, the flashbacks."

He swallowed thickly and turned away from her then and she stepped forward, "What you were saying before, that I don't get…"

"It doesn't matter."

"Malfoy-"

"What did you have?" he asked, and she frowned.

"What?"

"You were sick, what was wrong with you? Please tell me you're not already pregnant with the Weasel spawn are you?"

She fumed, "Excuse me! I don't know how that's any of your business first of all and second of all-" She tapered off as she saw the smirk ghosting his lips and she realized, belatedly, that she was essentially arguing with herself. She sighed, "I don't think that's ever going to happen anyway."

Malfoy turned then, "Why not? Because he's a floppy wanded-"

"Draco!"

He laughed then, "What did you call me?"

She felt her own eyes widen comically as she realized the slip up, "Malfoy-" she warned as he turned to face her.

"No, don't stop now. Actually, I don't mind it," he paused before he added, "Hermione."

Hermione was used to her name, having had it her whole life. She was used to mispronunciations and correcting people. She was used to hearing it diced and minced and shredded through different dialects and tongues and it never bothered her but this, this was different. The way he said her name felt like pumpkin juice for a parched throat or essence of murtlap on a particularly nasty cut. She wanted to hear it again. The heat bloomed across her cheeks then and she turned away from the man, trying to put some distance between her and him.

He had other ideas though and she felt his hand wrap around her arm, tugging her gently towards him.

She turned her arm still in his grasp, to see him staring at where he held on to her, his expression unreadable before he looked up to meet her gaze. "You never answered my question."

She stammered, "W-what question?"

"You and the Weasel. Why not?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Because he's not ready and- and I don't know if he ever will be," she explained.

He nodded absently, though she wasn't sure if he had heard a word she had said as his eyes trained on her lips. Her heart thudded against her breastbone and she found it was very hard to concentrate as he leaned in ever so closer. She could feel his breath against the bridge of her nose and then her lips. His eyes met hers for one second and she knew he was questioning; asking.

She didn't move to stop him and he closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers hesitantly at first and then more firmly.

Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer until their bodies melded together and she felt like the blood in her veins was boiling. She had had many kisses in her life; a few muggle boys, Viktor, Ron and –unfortunately- Cormac McLaggen. None of those held a candle to this. She felt like her body was melting, like every point of contact the man before her had with her was set alight at his touch. His fingers danced along the edge of her neck, her hairline, her jawbone and she pressed herself further into him. It wasn't until he pulled away, desperate for air, his forehead pressing against hers that her head caught up with her body. She was making out with a dream version of a man who couldn't stand her or her blood.

She pinched her eyes closed tightly as she fought to get her breathing under control and keep her traitorous heart from escaping through her nostril.

"Hermione, look at me," his voice said softly and she shook her head slightly against his. "No? Why not?"

"Because… because I don't want this to end."

She felt the rumble of his laugh and his hands came up to rest on either side of her face then, holding her head still as he pulled away from her.

"It doesn't have to… do you remember? Do you remember what I said last time you were here?"

She opened her eyes then, meeting his insistent gaze as thoughts of their last meeting took root in her mind. She remembered the chess mainly him beating her at it. She remembered the promise he had made and she remembered…

"No, I thought there was something else but-"

He swore under his breath, his own eyes closing as his jaw clenched before he finally shook his head, "It doesn't matter. I'll figure it out…"

She felt his hands leave her face then and she watched as he leaned in once more just as the knocking sounded on the door. It was her turn to swear and she grumbled as she turned to look at it.

"You don't have to go yet…" his voice started but when she turned around, he was gone.

She woke up seconds later, her heart hammering in her chest and she slid out of bed, opening the door to see Luna standing behind her.

"Oh hello Hermione, I hope I didn't wake you."

Hermione shook her head, "It's alright Luna, come in. What brings you here at-" she glanced at the clock, "midnight…"

"Do you not remember? It's a full moon. You had said you wanted to help me gather Agrimony."

"Right, right." Hermione said, "So sorry Luna, let me get dressed and I'll be right there."

Hermione hurried to her room, changing out of her pajamas and into clothes she didn't mind ruining in her search for the elusive herb before she hurried back out to leave with the blonde witch. She didn't stop to look at the portrait hanging on her wall. If she had, she might have noticed the crack that ran along its frame.

 **A/N: Happy Valentine's day to those who celebrate. In my case the husband sent me a heart shaped pizza. Because he gets me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable work. Sadly.**

 **A/N: I was going to update this this weekend however we will be going out of town tomorrow evening so you get it now! Yay!**

 **Chapter 4**

She couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. Even as she had gotten home hours after sunrise and fallen in her bed covered in muck and goo- and not caring for the slightest- she had hoped she would return to the library and had been disappointed when she hadn't.

There was something about it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She woke up well into the afternoon, her schedule all thrown off by her midnight adventure, and hopped quickly into the shower. She didn't even bother making her food the muggle way as she used her wand to slice and dice and get the spaghetti Bolognese onto a plate so as to quiet the relentless rumblings of her stomach.

She sat perched on her counter as she ate, her eyes darting to the hallway where she knew the portrait rested. Once she had finished her lunch she gave up, setting her plate in the sink and moving down the hall.

Her eyes took in the portrait, as different as it had been when she first bought it. She supposed a normal person would be disarmed to see the change in the portrait; she, on the other hand, knew it had something to do with a charm or enchantment. She only wished she knew which one. She bit her lip as she studied it, noting as she finished her survey, the fine crack along the edge of the frame.

She reached out, her finger grazing the gold inlay as she tried to recall what could have done such damage to it or if it had been there when she had brought it home. The thought struck her quickly and she grabbed her wand, easily removing the portrait from the wall and carrying it through her flat to the floo.

She ended up in the Leaky and she waved at Hannah as she passed by, the portrait pressed tightly against her.

She wandered through the streets, her eyes scoping the building fronts as she headed towards the little shop from which she had procured the painting. The bell tinkled when she entered and she swallowed as she waited, the portrait held against her protectively until she heard the telltale clatter of the woman's boots against the wood floor.

"Oh hello again dear," the old woman wheezed and Hermione nodded, smiling as she stepped forward to set the painting down on the counter.

"Hello, I was- well I was hoping you could tell me more about this painting," she asked.

The old woman clicked her tongue and pulled out a pair of glasses, perching them on her nose as she moved behind the counter and picked up the portrait, examining it carefully.

"Interesting piece this is," she began after a moment. "Can't tell ya much of it I'm afraid. Came down me stairs one day to find it leaning against the bannister, it was in a right state. Looks much better now to be honest."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she looked at the picture but then cleared her throat, "You said you found it one day? Was there anything in particular different about the day? Anything that stood out to you perhaps before you came downstairs? The night before? Anything at all?"

The old woman set the heavy frame down gently before she looked over the top of her glasses at Hermione, studying her carefully and- for a moment- Hermione wasn't sure she would ever get an answer. Finally the old woman hummed, "Well there was one thing…"

Hermione stood straighter.

"The night before I found that painting, I heard an exploding snabberwitch outside me door."

"An…exploding snabberwitch?" Hermione asked skeptically.

The witch nodded seriously, "Aye I did," she said, "surprised it didn't set off my wrongdoer warning as loud as it was."

Hermione pursed her lips as thoughts of Luna flitted through her head and she realized she might as well have been talking to the pale haired witch for all it was worth. "Well, thank you."

"No problem dear." The witch smiled a toothy grin before she pushed the portrait back towards her. "Take care a' him. I think he likes ya."

Hermione ignored the feeling in the pit of her stomach as the old witch winked at her and laughed maniacally as she walked away, disappearing into the back of the store as Hermione loaded up the portrait into her hands once more to cart it all the way back to her flat.

* * *

"Trying to get rid of me?" Malfoy asked as she joined him in the dream world that night.

"No!" she cried indignantly but the man merely raised a brow and she sighed, "Not exactly. I mean, I was just… this is weird."

"Why?" he asked as he sat down on a couch that had appeared in front of the fire.

Because I can't stop thinking about you when I'm awake, she wanted to say. Or, because you're a bloody wanker but I haven't thought of anything but that kiss we shared since. Or perhaps because she was consistently disappointed every time she remembered that her dreams with Draco Malfoy were just that. "Because you're not real," she said instead and she turned away as he studied her intently, feeling the heat creep up into her cheeks.

She heard him shift then and then he was in front of her, pushing her hair out of her face and using his thumb to tilt her chin up to look at him, "I'm real Granger. I'm right here…"

She leaned into his touch, his breath fanning across her face, and she felt the heat blossom in her belly, spreading throughout her midsection until-

She pulled away, turning to sit down in the couch as she fought to control the throbbing between her thighs and the man before her smirked.

"Last time, you asked me if I remembered what you said-" she supplied, eager to change the subject.

"Ah, yes," Malfoy said, leaning forward to fill up a teacup that had appeared before them and handing one to her, "I haven't quite figured that out yet. When I do you'll be the first to know."

He grinned at her then and she narrowed her eyes, "What are you up to?"

His grin broadened, "Who says I'm up to anything?"

"Because you're Draco Malfoy, you're always up to something."

His smile faltered then, slightly, as he leaned forward, his fingers grasping her wrist too tightly as he nodded, "Yes, I am. Remember that Granger."

She shook her head, pulling her wrist from his fingers and rubbing where his fingernails had dug in as the dream slowly faded. She woke up moments later, her wrist still in her hands and with a flick of her wand she illuminated the room, gaping at the half moon marks that lined her wrist.

* * *

"You probably just grabbed yourself," Ginny shrugged as she accepted her beverage from the harried witch behind the counter. "I mean, stranger things have happened."

Hermione nodded through her scowl as she accepted her own drink. She knew Ginny had a fair point but there was something that just didn't sit well with her.

"Anyway, I was going to tell you, Ron is planning to stop by your flat sometime this week. I thought I should warn you ahead of time."

Hermione groaned, "Thank you Gin."

"Anytime. After all, what are sisters for?" she laughed as the two walked out of the little café, tucking their hands into their warmed drinks as the chill hit them. "And anyway, I was getting bloody tired of him crashing my nights with Harry."

Hermione laughed, "That bad?"

Ginny let out a noise that was halfway between a huff and a groan and Hermione laughed at the exasperation written over the witch's face. "I'm sorry Gin."

"Not your fault my brother is a tosser," she supplied and then turned, "Speaking of brothers."

Hermione followed the witch into Weasley's wizard wheezes then as George greeted them jovially from where he stood helping another customer and Hermione waved before she turned to examine of the newer products and Ginny headed in her brother's direction.

"Find something you like?" George asked suddenly from behind her ear and Hermione twirled around, nearly dropping the box in her hand. "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the man's smirk, knowing it was _exactly_ what he had meant to do, before turning back to the bright purple box in her hands. "Does this work?"

George looked down and then back up, raising an eyebrow, "are you doubting me?"

"No, I just- nevermind. I'll take it," she said, handing the box to the wizard who shook his head and pushed it back to her.

"On the house," he smirked.

"No, I couldn't-" she started to argue.

He held his hand up, silencing her protests, "I couldn't possibly charge the woman who has managed to do what I've spent my entire life doing."

"And what is that, pray tell?"

George smirked, "Why, making Ronald miserable of course."

Hermione laughed as she accepted the box and shoved it into her bag with a smile as George recounted his latest tale of adventure and Ginny pressed him for information on his and Angelina's future plans. Once Ginny had run out of questions- and George had ran out of ways to sidestep the answers- the two left. Hermione bid good-bye to Ginny and headed home. It wasn't until later, as she fished her mobile from out of the bottom of her bag to order take out that she remembered her idea.

She grinned to herself as she set the purple box on the counter and hoped that George wouldn't fail her now. Because tonight dream Draco was in for a surprise.

* * *

She was ridiculous; she thought as she poured the little vial into her teacup and watched the shimmery liquid swirl together with her dark tea. She should not be this worked up over a dream and she told herself- more than once- that the first thing she was going to do come Monday was find the real Draco Malfoy so he could torment some sense back into her. In the meantime, however…

"Bottoms up," she sighed before she quickly drained the cup and set it down on her bed side table and settled in.

Her eyes grew heavy and she focused her attention on the beaches of Australia, the pure beauty that came in the sunset. She wondered, as her mind grew foggy, if Draco liked sunsets. He didn't seem like the type, but then again, he hadn't seem like he was any type and he had proved her wrong before. Her mind drifted, of its own accord, to the Yule ball. She remembered as her fifteen year old self had watched Draco Malfoy twirl his date around the beautifully transformed great hall. She had watched then, in rapt fascination, the way it had transformed him.

She felt the pull then and she opened her eyes to see the great hall, the decorations from so long ago twinkling in the light refracting off of the ice sculptures. She was alone, her heels clicking on the stone floors, and when she looked down she realized she was dressed in the same dress she had been then. She had spent hours looking for it, the _perfect_ dress. Of course, then she had hoped it would make Ronald jealous. She scoffed at her young naivety.

"What is this?" she wheeled around to find Draco standing before her and she felt her smile grow as she saw his dress robes.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, gesturing to her gown.

"I didn't-"

"No, I did!" she beamed, squaring her shoulders at the man. "George had a dream escape potion. The library was getting a little boring."

Draco quirked a brow, "Now I _know_ I'm dreaming. Hermione Granger, saying the library is boring."

She rolled her eyes as he acted like he was ill, his hand over his head as though he were about to faint. She remembered when he had done the same to Harry and she pursed her lips, turning to look at the decorations.

"It's just as I remembered," she said in awe as her eyes wandered over the sculptures. "Just as beautiful."

"It is," Draco agreed and Hermione turned to find him staring at her intently. He cleared his throat before he stepped forward and held out a hand, "Care to dance?"

She hesitated for a moment, worrying her bottom lip as she stared at his hand before she finally accepted, slipping her fingers into his.

The music started as soon as their skin touched and Hermione jumped as the sound of it echoed around the empty hall.

"Really?" she asked, the sound of the weird sisters filling her ears.

Draco shrugged, "had to set the mood."

She rolled her eyes again as he pushed her gently away from him, holding on to her hand as he spun her around and then gently back into his arms, flush against him.

"It's not the library," he said softly.

"Sometimes that's okay," she teased before a thought struck her. "Why always the library? Surely my imagination could come up with a better place every once in a while."

Draco stared at her intently, "Perhaps it's not just your imagination that's choosing our setting."

"What do you mean?"

He paused, his grip on her loosening, as he seemed to war with himself. "It doesn't matter." He finally said, "You wouldn't remember it anyway."

She pursed her lips as they continued dancing in silence.

"I saw you then, you know, noticed you," she said softly, thinking back to the _real_ Yule ball. "Watched you dance. You looked so… different."

"Different how?"

She shrugged, "Less, angry."

He smiled softly down at her as they continued to move together but he said nothing more. They danced together in the quiet great hall and Hermione realized it was how she had wished her Yule ball had actually gone. His hands on her hips as they swayed together sent thrills down her spine and for a moment she let herself imagine they were back there. That Draco Malfoy hadn't hated her for something she couldn't control, that she hadn't been so caught up in being the best; in proving herself. That they had both been different.

"Thank you," he finally said and the quiet tone of his voice drew her attention back to his face.

"For what?"

He smirked, "For this. You'll have to tell Weasley I said it was one of his best."

"Yeah, no." she smiled, thinking of the heyday George would have if he knew who she was dreaming about. She would never live it down.

Draco chuckled at that as they continued to dance together, the soft chords of music all but fading away as they stared at each other in the soft glow of light surrounding them. Hermione watched as he studied her face, his gray eyes intense, until she finally tore her gaze away. She could still feel his stare, however and she licked her lips nervously.

"You do that a lot," his voice said, soft and gentle. "When you're nervous you lick your lips or chew on the end of your quill."

She scowled up at him as she remembered his words from an earlier dream, _When you get lost in concentration you get this little crease between your eyebrows,_ he had said.

"How do you…" she started to say.

He leaned down then, his mouth brushing against hers as he spoke against her lips, "You aren't the only one who noticed Hermione."

Their lips met then, melded together as they melted against each other; Hermione's hands wrapped around his neck, pulling his mouth closer to hers while his hands did much the same with her hips. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach and she felt the hot sear of want surge through her. Too soon he pulled away, breathless, his eyes plagued with a hunger she didn't think she had ever seen before.

He rested his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses pressed together as they both worked to slow their erratic breathing. Her lips tingled with unspent energy, the feeling of her magic pulsing beneath her skin and she pulled away from him slightly as she stared down at her hands.

Something was different, she decided, she just couldn't figure out what. She looked up to Draco then, meeting his penetrating gaze and he nodded, "I feel it too."

Hermione blinked, the world around her going blurry at the edges as the dream world started to fade away. She fought, pulling at the edges of her consciousness, trying to hold tight to it like a child with a balloon, but it was no use.

She reached out, grabbing hold of Draco's hand as though keeping him with her would somehow pull her dream through to the other side.

"Hermione, look at me," he said, his voice urgent and she obeyed, opening her eyes to see him beginning to fade around the edges as she fought to hold onto the dream for just a moment longer. He spoke, the sound not quite reaching her ears and she shook her head sadly. He smiled, once, before he pulled her hand up to his mouth and placed one last, lingering kiss on her knuckles just before she woke.

 **A/N: I'm working on this story, an Everlark story for a dear friend of mine, and my own original work all while being a mommy to 6 and running a madhouse- I mean.. a home daycare- so please excuse any errors you might see.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works or characters.**

 **A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, my baby turned 3 yesterday! :( I hope you're still with me!**

 **Chapter 5**

Hermione had tried to go back to sleep as soon as she had awoke, too early, but it was of no use. She tossed and turned under her blankets before she finally slipped out of her bed and padded down the hallway, studiously ignoring the portrait as she felt a pang of longing.

She was sure she was becoming mentally unhinged and she wondered how long it would take the Prophet to pick up the story if she checked herself voluntarily into St. Mungo's.

She also wondered if she could request a room next to Lockhart's because if she was going to go off the deep end she might as well have something nice to look at while doing so.

A full fry up kept her busy most of the morning and she even had time to catch her choice muggle news program. It wasn't until her clock chimed to let her know it was time to leave for the ministry that she realized she was rubbing her knuckles where dream Draco's lips had pressed. She pursed her lips and pulled her hands away from each other, standing up to retrieve her bag and her wand before she headed out, determined not to give the peculiar imaginings another thought. She did just that as she powered through her workday; ignoring the pull at the back of her mind and the niggling feeling that had taken up residence in her gut. She even managed to send word to her parents about meeting them for a holiday before Christmas. By the time she arrived back at her flat that evening, she had managed to tamp down the entire incident, chalking it up to nothing more than a barmy hallucination, possibly due to her lack of down time. She reasoned with herself as she put in her request for vacation time and didn't feel even slightly guilty for it despite her head of department's best attempts.

It also came as no surprise as she walked up to her flat that evening to see the red haired man standing beside her door, the bouquet of partially limp flowers in his hands.

She sighed as she walked up to him, glancing between him and the flowers as he offered up a weak smile.

"I've been here since five o'clock…" he supplied as she opened the door and let him follow her inside.

She shrugged, "I was finishing some things at the office."

He nodded, "Look, 'Mione," she bristled at the nickname but said nothing. "I meant what I said before. I do want to be with you…"

"You just need time," Hermione finished for him and he nodded sheepishly.

She wanted to tell him to take his time, away from her. Her thoughts drifted to the portrait that hung in her hallway and the imaginary connection she seemed to have with a man in her dreams. She wondered, briefly, if it had something to do with the man before her.

"Just- can I have a chance? To show you how I feel?" Ron asked quietly.

Hermione debated with herself as she stared at the man before her; the man who had obliviously held her heart since she was old enough to give it. The same man who had broken it more than once.

"Let me take you to dinner? Come back to my place? It will be like old times, before all of this." He asked.

She warred with herself- her tongue darting out to wet her lips- before finally, she nodded. "Okay, let me change and grab my things."

Ron smiled at her and leaned over, pressing his full lips against hers in a short, chaste kiss. She smiled at him as she disappeared to change, her heart settling somewhere in her gut as she realized what she was about to do.

* * *

Hermione froze as she entered the dream world, cold and dark and gray. Her eyes darted above her to the chandelier that had been the bane of many of her nightmares and she waited, counting in her mind as she waited for the witch that may or may not be coming for her.

"You shouldn't be here," his voice said instead and she realized his voice was as cold as the room she was in.

"Draco-" she started, turning to see him standing by the fireplace, his eyes hard. "What are we doing here?"

The man leered but made no move to answer her and instead turned his gaze back to the fire.

The silence was heavy as they stood in the Malfoy manor drawing room and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Her heart was pumping hard against her breastbone, her chest heavy with the effort.

"What is wrong with you?" she finally asked, moving closer to the man as she tried to put some distance between herself and the door that haunted her nightmares.

"What is wrong with me?" he spun around then, his jaw clenched tightly as the words hissed past his lips. "Perhaps the question should be what's wrong with you? Though that really isn't that hard to ascertain is it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about Draco-"

"You know, it doesn't matter," he bit out. "Go ahead and go back to your Weasel King as you're so want to do, spread your legs for him-"

Hermione didn't realize she had moved until his head had snapped to the side, the sound of the slap echoing in the room around them.

She poked his chest, hard. "Don't you dare insinuate-"

"I'm not insinuating anything Granger," he grabbed her finger, pulling it away from where she pushed on his breastbone. "Though honestly, I expected better of you. I guess I was wrong."

She opened her mouth to argue, to protest, but when she looked up from where he held on to her finger, he was gone.

She took in a shaky breath as the dream transformed, the cold chilling her to her bone just as the doors flung open, the witch with wild hair and eyes to match silhouetted in the moonlight and Hermione woke with a scream.

* * *

"Hey, what's going on?" Ginny asked as she let her in her apartment the next morning, "Your owl sounded urgent."

"I'm getting rid of it," Hermione said as she moved back to her kitchen to stir her eggs and pointed at the covered portrait with her spatula.

Ginny raised a brow, "Okay, but why the sudden change of heart?"

Hermione merely shrugged in response before she plated her breakfast and leaned against the counter to eat it, far away from the offensive object currently sitting under one of her old cloaks.

"And besides, what are you going to do with it? Who in their right mind is going to want a picture of that ferret in their house?" Hermione blinked at the implication and Ginny waved her off, "That's not what I meant."

"Well, that's why I owl'd you, you see." Hermione said after swallowing a bit of her breakfast. "I realized too that there is a very limited market for something like this but there is _one_ person I'm sure that would love it."

Ginny studied her for a moment and Hermione finished scraping the eggs off her plate and into her mouth as she waited for the witch to catch up.

"No," she finally said, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Hermione asked innocently, "Surely if _I_ can go, you can."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at the witch before her but finally heaved a great sigh, "Fine, but when Harry finds out you went to the manor without him…"

"He won't," Hermione said firmly, "because we aren't going to tell him."

Ginny gave a sly grin as she stood up, "Now you're speaking my language."

* * *

The manor was just as dark and foreboding as Hermione remembered it to be. The only difference she could tell was that there was no longer the sharp sting of dark magic permeating the air around it. It was no secret that after the war, the Malfoy's had worked hard to retain their standing in the community. Narcissa Malfoy had, after all, saved the chosen one's life. In the end it was their only saving grace.

Lucius had been dealt with the most firmly of the three Malfoy's and had spent a hard year in Azkaban for the crimes committed against muggleborns and the magical government. Narcissa and Draco had been placed under house arrest, the latter only allowed off of it to attend his last year of Hogwarts. As far as Ronald had been concerned, they could rot in their manor for all he cared. It had only been with Harry and Hermione's testimony that the two had escaped from a cell.

She and Ginny stopped at the gate as they approached. They had all heard of the rumors before, of touching the gate with less than blood. It was mainly the reason for Ginny's presence after all- though Hermione was also grateful for the backup she provided.

"Here goes nothing," Ginny said as she reached out to press her hand against the large letter 'M' nestled in the middle of the iron gate.

With a clang the entry began to move, swinging open to allow them entrance up the graveled path that led to the Malfoy manors front door.

Hermione gripped the portrait tighter in her hands as they walked, the crunch of gravel under their heels the only sound to break through the air. She had the distinct feeling of being watched as they moved and she held her wand tightly in the hand that wasn't holding the portrait.

"Well, this is cozy," Ginny remarked with thinly veiled distaste as they reached the large marble steps that led up to the front door of the home.

Hermione realized while she had been here, Ginny never had been, and that thought soothed her slightly as they climbed the steps. The horrors that happened inside the monstrosity of a home had never harmed her friend and she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

Ginny knocked as soon as they had stopped at the door and it was only a matter of seconds before the heavy door creaked open to reveal a tiny house elf that stood trembling behind the door.

"Oh," it squeaked, it's voice higher pitched than Hermione could ever remember a house elves being and she made a mental note to check the status of the elves that lived at the manor once she returned to work. "Miss Weasley and the mudblood have arrived."

" _Don't call her that_." Ginny hissed and she took a step forward before Hermione reached out, grasping her forearm and giving her head a shake.

"It's okay," she supplied the witch. And it was, to her. The elves in Malfoy manor were not like Dobby- or even Kreacher- they had lived the entirety of their lives drowned in the racist rhetoric that the elder Malfoy no doubt spewed and Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for them. "We would like to speak with Missus Malfoy if we could."

The elf stared at her defiantly, the seconds ticking by and Hermione almost just turned on her heel to leave.

"Oh Dippy, it's alright," a voice said cooly from behind the door and the little elf squeaked once more before it turned- the door opening wider with the movement to reveal the Malfoy matriarch.

"Miss Weasley, Miss Granger," the witch said smoothly, her voice holding no warmth as she stared at the two witches on her doorstep, "To what do we owe this… _pleasure_."

Hermione took a step forward and directly in front of Ginny at that, knowing the witches penchant for not putting up with bullshit. "Missus Malfoy, I recently discovered something I think you might like to have. I found it at a quaint little shop in Diagon Alley and though I bought it because…well I don't really know why I bought it actually it just had a certain appeal to it that-"

"Please Miss Granger," the witch interjected, interrupting the rambling.

Hermione sighed and picked up the portrait she had settled at her feet and gently plucked the cloak from it, turning it to face the woman.

She watched as several things happened at once; First, Narcissa gasped and her eyes widened before they quickly turned to narrow slits. The woman's wand was drawn in an instant and Ginny- just as quick- had hers out as well as Hermione stood trapped in the crosshairs.

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Are you repaying me for the torment my sister caused because if you are Miss Granger I can assure you we have paid enough."

"I don't-" she started.

"As it were, the ministry knows how I feel about this matter and if this is a ploy for me to rescind the case I will again state that I refuse to do so and I expect nothing less than would be given to any other magical family—no matter their reputation."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Malfoy, I don't understand-" Hermione started.

The witch's face changed then, her cool demeanor giving way to one of anger and- Hermione realized- horrific grief as she stepped back into the home and gripped the door. "I demand that you leave my property at once. You are not to set foot here again Miss Granger and if you do even your precious Potter won't be able to help you then."

Before Hermione- or Ginny- could retort the door had slammed in their faces and the hum of magic bit at their skin letting them know they were not welcome any longer.

"Well-" Ginny started, "That was weird."

Hermione turned, shaking her head before her eyes looked back down to the portrait. It was the first time she had looked at it all day and she felt her heart stutter as she saw that once again the picture had changed. No longer was Malfoy smiling, instead he looked forlorn; his face haggard and greyed. She bit her lip and shook her head as she turned, pressing the picture tighter against her as the two set off once more.

* * *

Ginny left with the promise of finding out more details from Harry. Hermione didn't want to even think about what Ginny would have to do to get them and she wrinkled her nose as Ginny had alluded to the price she would have to pay. The redhead had merely laughed and disapparated and Hermione had gone back to her flat.

She had plans to spend the day with her parents and she readied herself for that, forcing her eyes to stay far away from the portrait that now rested against her kitchen table. She only stopped to cover it back up before she left, locking the flat behind her.

Her parents were just as she had left them the last time she had visited. Her mother- as usual- commented on her lack of visits while her father tried to buffer between the two before he asked about Ronald and she tried to dodge the questions. It all reminded her of _why_ it had been months since her last visit.

She had hoped, naively and foolishly, that after she had returned her parent's memories, that things would go back to normal between them. Of course it was never that easy. Her parents trust in her had been diminished and no matter how hard she tried to earn it back, it seemed there was always _something_ she had to keep from them.

By the time she left she was mentally exhausted and the idea of a nice glass of wine and her favorite mindless shows on the telly sounded marvelous. She was surprised then when she arrived to her flat to find she wasn't alone.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she walked through the door to see Ronald standing in the kitchen, his eyes on the portrait he had uncovered.

"I came here to talk," he said and he gestured to the wine glasses he had filled on the counter and the fire that was going in her fireplace.

"Ronald-" she sighed. "We talked about this-"

"And you said we weren't in the same place right now."

She shrugged out of her coat, "Ron, I love you. You know that. You're one of my best friends but it's like I said-"

"Is this why?" he asked, picking up the portrait as though it were going to burn him. "You have some unrequited love for this prat?"

"What?" she scoffed, "Ronald, you're being ridiculous!"

He quirked a brow, "Am I?"

"Yes," she nodded, "You know there's nothing between me and Draco."

She realized her mistake as soon as it slipped from her mouth. Ronald's scowl deepened and his knuckles turned white on the frame of the portrait. He said nothing however as he pushed past her roughly, the portrait still in his hands and she followed on his heels as he entered the living room.

"Then you won't care if I toss it in here where it belongs will you?" he growled and Hermione felt her heart plummet as she saw his intention.

Before she could even think she pulled her wand out of her pocket and shot a hex at the man, hitting him square in the knee.

He shouted as he let go of the portrait to grab hold of his leg and Hermione accio'd the painting back into her hands.

"You've gone mad!" Ron cried as he grabbed his things from the couch and stormed towards the door.

"Ronald!"

"No! Stay away from me! And have a nice life with your ferret." He slammed the door behind him, the pictures still on her walls vibrating from the action.

Hermione pinched her eyes closed, holding the portrait tightly against her as she fought the tears that threatened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable work.**

 **What I do own is a copy of Moana and 3 children under the age of 6. Unfortunately.**

 **Chapter 6**

She braced herself as she slipped into sleep, her last encounter with her dream Draco still playing in her mind.

"Granger," his voice said low and gravelly in her ear.

She shivered as his breath caressed her neck and slowly opened her eyes as he moved to stand beside her.

"I'm surprised you came back," he said quietly.

"I didn't have a choice did I?" she bit out.

The man shook his head, "You always have a choice. You saved the portrait."

She bit her lip and looked down at her feet, to the stone floors that she had known her whole life. They were back in the library at least.

"I couldn't let him destroy it."

"Why?" he asked.

She shrugged, "I don't know…"

They were silent, standing in the middle of the Hogwarts library together and Hermione continued to examine the stone floor beneath her feet.

"Hermione-" Draco finally said, his voice low and close, "Look up."

She did as he asked, gasping as she saw not the library of her past dreams but the one from her earlier years, bustling with students and professors alike.

"What?" she started.

"I said before that you weren't the only one who noticed-" he said quietly and she looked to see him staring at the door just as she walked in; her bushy hair bouncing as she walked confidently over to the table. She was tiny, she realized, probably first year; but she wasn't the only one staring. A miniature Draco Malfoy sat in the corner, a book on the table before him, his eyes watching her over the top of it. "I don't think you ever realized I was here," Draco said quietly from beside her and the scene changed. They were older, second year perhaps, and Draco stood in the shadow of the stacks, his eyes trained on Hermione as she sat with her head bowed close to Harry's. Scene after scene flashed before her as she watched them grow and change; Draco was always there, always watching. She had never noticed before, Draco standing in the shadows as she studied, fell in love, grew up.

The scene changed again and no longer were they in the Hogwarts library but a much darker room.

"The Manor," Draco explained at her puzzled expression and she didn't miss the tick in his jaw as he spoke.

She watched as the door to the room opened and Lucius walked in, a smaller Draco following behind him.

"But father-" Draco spoke and gone was the haughty tone he had used during his formative years at school. Instead he sounded timid; scared. "I don't even like her."

"It doesn't matter what you _like_ Draco. It's what you must do. Now, tell me about school."

Draco perked up then as he spoke of the first years, of the young girl that had captured his interest.

"Granger you say?" his father asked.

Draco nodded, "And she's smart father, she beat me on the-"

The smack sounded throughout the room and Hermione gasped as she watched the young boy fall to the floor, his hand over his cheek as his eyes grew shimmery. Lucius turned, uncaring, to pour himself a large tumbler of firewhisky.

" _Never_ let a girl beat you Draco. Especially not some filthy mudblood."

"Father-"

" _Never_ " Lucius sneered, raising his hand once more as the little boy beneath him flinched.

Hermione woke with a start, realizing only as she pressed her hands against her face that she was crying.

* * *

Hermione was never going to get any work done, she decided as she laid her head against her desk for the hundredth time.

She had woken from the horrible dream that had plagued her in the early hours of the morning and no matter how much she had tossed and turned she hadn't been able to go back to sleep.

Her heart hurt, thinking of the vision of young Draco Malfoy harmed at the hands of his father. She was also terribly confused. Her subconscious was obviously out to get her, she realized as she gave up trying to stay awake and closed her heavy eyes atop her desk.

She had barely dozed off when her door opened and she jerked upright, wiping at her mouth in case any drool had managed to escape, " Oh hey Harry, I- Ginny? What are you doing here?"

Ginny and Harry walked in, the former shutting the door behind her before she pulled out her wand and waved it, the sounds from the bustling ministry opposite her door fading away at the action.

"Tell me about this portrait." Harry said firmly and Hermione sat up a little straighter, her eyes glancing towards the witch standing by the door.

"I don't-"

"Ginny told me all about it. I need to know what you know."

Hermione's brow furrowed at the tone her best friend was taking. It sounded terribly like the voice he used on official auror business. It sounded like she was being interrogated. "Why does it matter?"

Harry sighed heavily as he took in the sight of her before him. Her squared shoulders and her raised chin. "Because Draco Malfoy has been missing for a year and six days and this morning his mum shows up asking what we're playing at sending people to ask around about him. I had no idea what she was talking about until this one showed up, asking about Draco Malfoy and his parents."

Hermione sucked her teeth, ignoring the chill that had settled over her at his words. "I still don't know what any of this has to do with my portrait."

Harry leaned forward, "Because as far as we know, whoever made that portrait is the last one to have seen Draco Malfoy."

"It's a portrait," Hermione argued. "And not even a magical one at that. It's a simple, muggle painting."

"Ginny said you've been experiencing weird things… Hermione you're the one who told me years and years ago that even in the magical world hearing voices isn't a good sign."

Hermione knew he was right; knew he had a point, as much as she hated to admit it.

"I'll go home," she declared, pushing her chair back from her desk. "I'll bring it back to you."

Harry nodded in thanks then and reached out to clasp her shoulder. "Thank you 'mione."

"Of course."

* * *

Hermione didn't even bother to take off her shoes as she slid into her bed and closed her heavy eyes. It felt like only seconds had passed before she felt herself slip from one world to another.

"Back already?" his voice sounded amused and she turned to see him standing before her, looking much the same he had the night before. "I thought you might not come back-"

She didn't wait for him to finish as she flung herself at him, grasping his face between her hands tightly as she kissed him.

He responded in kind, his hands snaking their way around her waist as he pulled her ever closer still. Their tongues fought one another for dominance, their fingers digging into skin as they held tightly to one another. She could feel his want pressed against her and she pushed herself against him, desperate for relief.

Draco pushed her gently, holding her out at arm's length as he looked down at her, "Not that I don't appreciate the change of attitude but what's brought this on?"

"Does it matter?" she asked sharply.

His eyes narrowed and he pulled away from her further, letting go of her arms as he took a step back, "See, now I know there's something-"

"Harry wants me to give you up," she pinched her eyes shut, shaking her head, "or the picture of you up I guess. I don't- I can't- I don't want-"

He was back then, his finger underneath her chin as he lifted her head and she pried open her eyes to see him staring down at her intensely. She waited for him to say something; anything. Instead he pressed his lips to hers with the same vigor as before.

She accepted it readily, her hands tangling in the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as she yanked him closer even still. His hands were on her hips, on the slim bit of skin that he had exposed and she felt the shivers that coursed through her at his touch.

It wasn't enough.

Greedily she reached down between them, pulling at the button his trousers until she heard it give way with a 'pop' and she smirked against his mouth as she pushed her hand down until she found his hardened length.

He hissed softly, his mouth pulling away from hers and trailing down her jawline and onto her neck, nibbling at the skin there as she caressed his overheated member.

"Careful love," he said against her skin and she was almost embarrassed at the rush of wetness between her thighs at his words. Almost.

She closed her eyes, focusing hard on what she wanted and when she opened them once more to see the large four post bed that had appeared behind them she couldn't help but let out a small whoop of victory. Draco pulled away long enough only to glance over his shoulder before he steered them towards their new destination.

Her legs hit the bed and gently he laid her down, crawling up along her body. She wasted no time in shimmying out of her quickly tightening britches and bit back a smirk when she saw his appreciative gaze land on her black lace knickers.

"Lovely," he muttered as he bent down to place his mouth against the lace covered mound and she arched her back against him. "Not yet."

She bit back a groan as his lithe fingers made quick work of disposing her of her undergarments before he worked back up her legs. He kissed her thighs as he went, making his way back up to her overheated core. His breath fanned across her sex and her fingers twisted in the duvet as she heard him laugh against her as he continued to tease her until she could take it no longer and she let out a growl.

Draco chuckled as he moved up her, "Impatient?"

She nodded, biting her lip as she reached between them to push his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free.

"Please," she begged, leaning up to press her lips on the skin below his ear, "Please Draco."

He pushed into her then, filling her up, and she felt the fire alight within her unlike anything she had ever felt.

Draco paused, his gaze meeting hers, "Do you feel-"

"Yes," she whispered, feeling the tug of magic that seemed to emanate from within her.

He moved slowly again and her hips rose to meet him as he pumped in and out. Her body was tense and tight, her core strings taut as each thrust of his hips seemingly pushed her closer to the edge. His lips were on her ear then, his tongue darting out to lick the soft skin of her lobe before his cool breath blew over it, "Come for me Hermione."

Her name alone was her undoing as her fingernails dug into his back, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his shoulder and she felt rather than heard as he too came undone.

* * *

She awoke slowly as her hair tickled her nose and she reached up to bat it away as she tried to reclaim her dream.

It had been wonderful, she realized as her consciousness slowly drifted to the surface and she could still feel the heat of him against her. The energy that seemed to hum between them as his fingers gripped her hips.

She sighed contentedly, feeling the ache between her thighs and the hair in her nose. She batted at it again as her thoughts registered again and she shifted once more. There was definitely an ache, she thought as she rubbed her thighs together once more and then- then…

Her eyes flew open as she batted at the hair once more; the soft white hair that seemed to gleam in the dying light of the afternoon that was filtering through her window.

She felt her eyes widen as his arms tightened around her middle and she fought the urge to scream as she looked down at Draco Malfoy wrapped around her, completely and utterly naked.

 **A/N: Magic. I love it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works or characters.**

 **A/N: You guys make me blush. I LOVE your reviews and I seriously have the biggest smile on my face all day when I read them. I wanted to take just a second to address something from a Guest reviewer (I wish I could have replied but alas, I couldn't.) You asked "Is it a photograph or a painting? Because you state that it's one and then contradict yourself." Seeing as I'm only one person sometimes things get overlooked. In trying to not be redundant I often use synonyms for words because reading the word "portrait" 1,000 times would definitely get old. both photograph and painting are in that list of synonyms. This is definitely open to interpretation so I'll leave it up to you- the reader- what you see it as. :)**

 **Chapter 7**

There were a few seconds between the time that Hermione realized that Draco Malfoy was in her bed naked after a particularly vivid sex dream and the time that said man woke to find her staring at him.

They seemed to be the longest seconds of her life.

Hermione breathed as calmly as she could as she slowly slipped from the man's grasp and moved to grab her dressing gown, the duvet pressed tightly against her as she kept her eyes on the man in her bed.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the light, his forehead creased deeply as he looked around and then, then his eyes landed on her.

"Bloody fucking hell," he swore as he sat bolt upright, pulling a pillow from the head of her bed to cover his still exposed cock, "What is going on?"

"I'd like to know the same thing," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a 'no nonsense' pose instead of the protective stance it really was.

"You tell me Granger, one moment I was dreaming about-" he trailed off then, his eyes widening and Hermione felt her own furious blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. The man reached up to run a hand down his face roughly, "Fuck. This can't be happening."

"I can assure you whatever you think happened, didn't," Hermione said, firmly ignoring the protesting ache between her legs as she did so.

Malfoy nodded, turning his head to look around and Hermione used the opportunity to tighten the sashes on her robe just as the knocking on the door started.

"Granger, what is this?" Malfoy asked; picking up a Daily Prophet Hermione had left on her bedside table, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean what is it? It's a Prophet of course- oh for Merlin's-" the knocking grew louder still. "I'll-" she started before she shook her head and moved across the room, opening her bedroom door and gasping as she saw the remains of the portrait. It looked as though it had been knocked down; the gold inlaid frame shattered completely, the black background empty. Her gaze darted over her shoulder to where Malfoy stood looking at her quizzically and slowly she bent down to pick up the pieces of the portrait as the knocking at her door grew more and more insistent.

"Is that-" Malfoy started as he moved closer and gazed over her shoulder.

"It is- was a portrait," she said sullenly over the pounding on the door.

Sighing she stood up, setting the broken frame against the wall before she turned back to Malfoy, "There are some pyjama bottoms in the bottom drawer of the dresser and perhaps a t-shirt or two. Put them on."

She didn't wait for him to argue as she moved out into the living room and opened the door.

"Hello Harry,"

"Where is it Hermione?" he demanded as he pushed past her into the house.

Hermione gulped, "Harry-"

"Hermione, it's an investigation. You can't say you're going to turn it over for ministry review and then _not_ show. There are protocols and-" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose above his glasses, "Where is it?"

She bit her lip, "Well, see that's the thing- it's not here."

"What?" Harry asked loudly, "What do you mean it's not here? You _just said_ -"

"I know what I said Harry but it's- it's complicated and besides it's not really an investigation anymore."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because Malfoy isn't missing-" she said smartly.

"How the bloody hell would you know that?"

"Because I'm right here Potter," Malfoy answered and Harry turned, gaping at the man who now stood wearing Ron's too short pyjamas, his hair mussed and his cheeks tinged with pink and Hermione knew, before Harry even turned that things were about to get a whole lot messier.

* * *

"I don't know Harry," Hermione hissed as she watched her best friend pace in front of her. She had barely had time to change into appropriate clothes before the man had cornered her in her room, all business.

"So you're telling me you just woke up and he was here?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks, "Yes…"

Harry wheeled on her then, "You're lying."

"I'm not," she sighed before she saw his look, "I- he was in bed with me."

Harry gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing as though he had forgotten how to breathe and Hermione groaned.

"I'm just as lost as you are Harry but perhaps instead of interrogating me you should be asking _him_."

Harry exhaled and moved to plop down beside her on the bed "I did. Twice in fact. Hermione, he's… he said he didn't even know a year had passed until he saw your daily."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she stared at her friend who suddenly looked just like he had all those years ago when she had once again had to help him out of a perilous situation.

"What does he remember?" she asked quietly.

Harry shrugged.

Hermione licked her lips and sat up straighter, trying to gather her thoughts as she worked to piece together this problem.

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked and she turned to face him, "I know you have an idea."

"I think- I think we should figure this out. Harry, whoever did this…"

"I know," Harry said throatily before he gave a great groan once more and fell back on the bed, "It never ends."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at that before she stood up and headed to the kitchen.

She was surprised to see Draco right where they had left him, staring at the teacup in his hand as though it would hold all of the answers he so desperately desired. Hermione cleared her throat, sitting down across from him slowly as Harry leaned opposite them on the counter and jumped right in. "Malfoy-"

"For the last bloody time Potter,I don't know," Draco said throatily, "The last thing I remember-"

He trailed off then, his eyes growing distant and Hermione fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand. "Anything you can remember Draco-"

He turned his head sharply then, meeting her gaze at the use of his given name and she saw something there, registering behind his eyes before he finally, slowly, shook his head. "There's nothing."

Harry sighed, "I think- I think the best thing to do is to keep this between us. I mean, whoever is out there… Hermione, I know it's not your job but do you think Malfoy could stay here? Until I can figure out where to put him?"

"W-what?" she stammered.

Harry sighed, "Look, whatever this is doesn't seem like an accident. I'd like to investigate it further before we let anyone know Malfoy is… well whatever this is." The man said exasperatedly. "If someone did this to him they could be looking for him. The less people that know about this the better and well, you do have the best wards-"

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes at her best friend. He did have a point though and without her consent her eyes drifted to the man who still sat despondently across from her. Finally she nodded, "Fine but I want more vacation time-"

Harry grinned, "I'll see what I can do. Thanks Hermione! Oh and Malfoy, don't do anything reckless or stupid. We'll figure this out."

Malfoy sneered, "If that isn't the definition of the pot calling the kettle black I don't know what is."

"Whatever, just- stay put," Harry grumbled before he bid them goodbye with the promise to return first thing in the morning, the remnants of the portrait tucked under his arm.

The silence stretched on after the front door had closed and Hermione busied herself at the counter, making a cup of tea. She was so intent on ignoring the elephant in the room that when he finally spoke she nearly dropped her teacup, "Tell me it wasn't real-" he whispered.

"I- I don't-"

"The library, the manor; tell me I was dreaming," he pleaded, his voice rough and gravelly and Hermione could barely breathe.

"I thought I was-"she shook her head, "I remember it too."

"It was so cold," he said quietly, "When you were gone, when you weren't there."

"You don't remember anything?" she asked quietly, ignoring the pained look on his face.

Draco shook his head as he ran his finger along the woodgrain in her table, "I didn't- I thought it was a dream but you said- when you said my name just now- You've never said it like that before the library."

"How did this happen?" she asked, her eyes drifting to where the portrait had once sat.

Draco shrugged then, his jaw tightening, "I don't know."

Hermione bit her lip as she let what she did know invade her thoughts, "You said- you said before there was nothing but Malfoy-"

"It's nothing," the man said firmly, finally meeting her gaze- his eyes hard and dark.

Hermione knew there was something there, something he was holding back, but instead of pushing she nodded- just once and pushed away from the counter- "I'm going to go wash up-" she flushed red as the thought crossed her mind and instead trailed off, "just make yourself at home."

And before she could do something stupid- again- she left the room, and Draco Malfoy, behind.

* * *

Harry returned bright and early the next morning with a bag full of clothes and Malfoy's case file tucked under his arm. Hermione was grateful for his presence that seemed to lessen the tension between her and Malfoy. Their night had been spent sitting on opposite sides of her flat and only speaking as they crossed paths to the loo or Hermione helped make a bed on her sofa.

As it were, Hermione ignored the glances that Harry kept shooting between the two of them as they sat together in her living room, pouring over the notes.

"It says here I was last seen in Diagon alley with Theo yet there are no notes to say that anyone spoke with him-"

"No, here they are," Hermione said, sliding the papers into his hands, "Sorry, I read them. He said you seemed in good spirits when you departed and nothing was out of the ordinary."

Draco's shoulders slumped slightly with that news as he flipped through the statement that Hermione had procured. "What about my parents?"

"They told the ministry that nothing was out of sorts as well. For all intents and purposes you just…vanished."

Draco pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he read through yet another page and Hermione stood up, "I think I'm going to make some lunch, want anything?"

Draco nodded his head once and Hermione nodded and headed into the kitchen, pulling out the makings for an easy, light meal.

"What's going on with you two?" Harry's voice startled her and she dropped the jar of pickles in her hand, managing to catch them just before they hit the ground.

She glared at the man who merely grinned and she shook her head, waving her wand at the food before her and watching it as it compiled itself into two large sandwiches.

"Nothing is going on Harry-"

"Hermione please, I know not everyone is the 'brightest of their age' but don't insult my intelligence that much…"

"Harry-"

"Just- be careful okay?" Harry said quietly, "We don't know what happened to him or who did this and I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of-"

"yourself, I know," Harry said lightly. "You don't think I know that? How many times did you save my arse? I just- I love you Hermione. You know that. We all do."

"I know," Hermione smiled, "I love you too."

Harry grinned in response and reached over to steal a crisp from her plate before he raised a brow, "Also, let me know when you tell Ron so I can make sure I'm not on the continent anymore."

Hermione barely surpressed a groan as the man chuckled his way back into the living room and Hermione followed behind him with the tray of food.

"I think-" Draco started, "I think I need to talk to my mother."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works or characters.**

 **A/N: You guys are all my favorites! Don't tell my husband.**

 **Hi guest reviewer! Thanks for letting me know you were here last chapter and sticking around even if the word usage was annoying. ;) I wanted to say you all are wonderful and even if you don't agree with something I write that's okay! Honoria Granger, I tried to reply to your last pm but couldn't and just wanted to take a moment to say "you're right." (wink) Also I may or may not have been in an awful mood because I found out I have a milk allergy. Do you know how much stuff milk is in? (spoiler, a LOT.) and my babies have to have surgery to remove their tonsils. At the same time. Which leads me to...**

 **Please excuse any errors as I just drank two glasses of wine and this momma is a lightweight.**

 **Chapter 8**

Draco was fuming as Harry told him once again that- under no circumstances- was he to go to Malfoy manor.

Hermione had quickly- and quietly- retreated to her room to grab her wand when the two had begun to argue over it and it wasn't until Harry had left with the warning not to do anything rash that she had finally been able to breathe again.

Draco- however- had fled to the restroom closing the door none too softly and Hermione had felt a tug at her heart.

When he returned- wet hair and one of Harry's borrowed shirts on- Hermione had a pot of tea ready but he had ignored it, walking straight into the living room and brooding beside her fireplace.

"Malfoy-" Hermione started as she followed behind from her place at the kitchen table.

"Not now Granger-" the man had merely grunted and Hermione huffed in annoyance.

"Yes _now_ Draco, I can tell you're plotting something and believe me, it won't work." She snapped as she sat roughly down on her sofa.

"How do you-"

"Please, everything Harry knows he learned from me," she waved dismissively.

Draco heaved his own sigh then, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch, resting his arms on his knees as they both stared at the fireplace.

"My father- well he was never kind," Draco started after a moment. "What you saw- what I showed you was only the beginning. My mother though, my father hated it- he said she was making me weak. Granger, my mother doesn't know I'm alive, she doesn't know where I am. I just- what if someone goes after her next? What if they already have?"

Hermione swallowed then as he met her gaze, nothing but sincerity and worry in his pained gaze.

"Alright-"

"I don't- wait, what?"

"Alright," Hermione said again, "I'll help you see your mum."

"Really?"

Hermione smiled at the man before her and before she could stop herself she reached over, grasping his fingers in her own and giving them a squeeze, "If there's anyone who understands protecting their family it's me... Harry doesn't- he doesn't understand it, but I do."

The corner of his full lips quirked up and he gave her fingers a squeeze of his own as he breathed, "Thank you."

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she quickly pulled her hand from his and smoothed out the fabric of her pants before she stood up, "We won't have much time because if I know Harry he's already working out a team of security and they won't be as generous. Not to mention he'll already have tapped the floo network so we're going to need to do this covertly."

Draco raised a brow, "and what exactly does that entail?"

Hermione grinned, "It means we call in the experts."

* * *

The experts arrived ten minutes later through the floo and Hermione grinned as Draco looked on with wide eyes as George and Ginny Weasley argued their plan.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked Hermione as she passed by him towards her bedroom, his fingers wrapping gently around her arm.

Hermione smiled, "Positive. If there's anyone that could pull this off it's these two. Trust me."

Draco glanced warily at the still arguing redheads as he leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting across her earlobe, "I do. Trust you I mean but…" she had to pull her arm out of his grasp as the skin pebbled beneath his palm.

"What, having second thoughts ferret?" Ginny asked with a smile on her face.

"If anyone should be worried it's us. Imagine if I had to stay a Malfoy for the rest of my life." George shuddered at that, "I'd never get laid again."

"I'll have you know-" Draco started to argue and Hermione rolled her eyes and excused herself as she hurried to her room to grab the small vial of potion that she kept carefully stashed away in her closet.

"Just why exactly do you keep polyjuice potion around?" Draco's voice made her jump and she clutched tighter at the flask of potion as she rounded to face him.

"Well, it's- I mean…" she stammered and then rolled her eyes as she saw Draco fighting back a grin, "When you're friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley-"

Draco took a step towards her then and she took a step back, her back bumping into the wall as the man continued to advance. "And is that all you are?" he asked quietly as he reached her, "friends?"

Hermione swallowed as she looked up into the man's eyes, "Yes."

"Oy! You two! Hurry up!" George yelled from the living room and Hermione laughed as Draco backed away, what sounded like a growl resonating deep in his chest.

They made their way back to the living room then and Hermione poured the potion into the small classes that Ginny had conjured in their absence before they each took turns plucking a hair from their head and putting it in the glass opposite them.

"Bottoms up!" George sang as everyone picked up the glass in front of them and downed it in one swoop.

Almost immediately it began to work and Hermione grimaced as she felt herself shrink slightly, her hair straightening and growing longer as she watched Ginny's shorten and begin to frizz.

She gave a laugh as she turned to see Draco growing in size and freckles popping up over his nose as his hair turned a startling shade of red. Hermione bit her lip as she saw the look on George's face as he looked at Draco and she quickly cleared her throat, "Okay, so we have an hour tops, do you guys know what to do-"

"Yes 'Mione." Ginny sighed, "Now go."

Hermione nodded as she stepped forward and Draco held out his arm, letting her link it with his before they both turned on the spot and disappeared.

* * *

She pulled her arm from his as soon as they landed, ignoring the look on his face as she took a step away from him and straightened her shoulders.

"It's this way," Draco said, nodding his red hair towards the alley way. They had sent the owl to Narcissa hours earlier simply telling her to meet them at the garden club in a private room with information about her son. They only hoped she would take it seriously enough to investigate.

They walked silently down the street until they reached their meeting place and carefully slipped inside. To anyone else it was simply a brother and sister out for a stroll and luckily, no one stopped them to chat. They were alone as they entered and Draco- ever the gentleman- pulled the chair out for Hermione as they sat down to wait for Narcissa's arrival.

The silence dragged on and the air was heavy around them before Draco finally spoke. "Do you regret it?"

Hermione turned sharply to look at him, "what?"

"You know as well as I do what happened Hermione. Do you regret it?"

"I- I don't-"

"Because I don't. I meant what I said Hermione. What I showed you. I've been watching you for as long as I can remember and for the longest time I thought it was because you were off limits. A muggle born. Something I couldn't have. I was spoiled as a child and not used to getting my way but now I'm not sure because- because if It were just that then I wouldn't still want you. I wouldn't still want to touch you. So, do you regret it?"

Hermione opened her mouth just as the door to the private room creaked open and Draco turned his attention to the door as Narcissa walked in, regal in her black and green robes, her head held high. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Mother…" Draco said, his voice breaking.

"Does the Granger girl have something to do with this?" Narcissa asked, taking a step back, her heeled boot clicking heavily against the floor as her face contorted in pain, "I've told them-"

"When I was five I fell off of my broom and broke my arm after you had told me not to ride so high. When they regrew the bones father told you not to baby me but you snuck in some of my favorite biscuits anyway. When I was eleven and first at Hogwarts I got homesick so you sent me treats and a letter every day. When I was thirteen I told you I was in love with a girl who was muggle born and you told me not to tell anyone because it was dangerous for her. After I took my mark you found me crying in my closet and you held me until I fell asleep. Mother- it's me."

"D-Draco?" Narcissa asked, her face ghostly white before she crossed the room to wrap him in her arms. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder as she ran a hand soothingly through his hair before she held him away from her, "But why- why are you a _Weasley?_ "

"It's- it's a long story." Draco said, glancing back at Hermione, "Come sit down please."

Narcissa nodded as she sat down in the chair Draco pulled out for her, nodding at Hermione, "Miss Weasley,"

"That's Hermione Granger mother."

"Polyjuice?" the woman asked and Hermione nodded.

"We thought it best after- well…"

"I was stuck in a portrait mother."

"Excuse me?" she said, "Did you say a portrait?"

Draco nodded, "Yes mother, and before you ask no, I don't know how. Or why. I was- I was hoping you might be able to shed some light…"

Narcissa shook her head, "I don't know. You were there and then you weren't. You just disappeared…"

"And father?" Draco asked.

"He knows nothing more than I do-" she stopped, "You should have told me it was you I would have brought him-"

"No!" Hermione and Draco both said at the same time and Hermione glanced sheepishly at the man beside her.

"No," Draco continued, "No one can know about this mother. Harry Potter is working on the case but-"

"But Draco-"

"We'll figure this out Missus Malfoy-" Hermione promised and as Draco launched into the tale of what they _did_ know, she only hoped she could keep it.

It wasn't until every detail had been shed to the matriarch, the hour quickly gaining on them, that Hermione insisted they must go. Narcissa had agreed to check the manor once more for anything she could find and had left in a flourish of robes as Draco and Hermione stood up.

Hermione bit her lip as they walked back to the alley where they would apparate from side by side until they finally reached the mouth of the passage and slipped inside. Sliding her wand from her sleeve she reached out to grasp Draco's hand in hers and pulling him in she met his gaze.

"No," she said quietly, leaning up on her tiptoes as she watched the red begin to seep from his hair.

"No what?" he asked.

"No, I don't regret it," and-fingers still intertwined- she disapparated them back to her flat.

Their feet had barely touched her carpet before Draco let go of her hand, reaching out to cup her face between his palms as he kissed her soundly on the mouth.

 **A/N: I feel like Narcissa gets a bad rap in a lot of fanfictions. I always viewed her as a victim as well but also a woman who fiercely loved her son.**

 **Also, I never understand the 'disapparate' or 'apparate' so forgive me if I use the wrong one.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works or characters.**

 **A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay on this. I've had a really bad few weeks which basically all stem from the fact that my children are terribly unlucky and both of them that had their tonsils out had to go under anesthesia not once but twice due to bleeding. Fun times. If it weren't for Hufflepuffmommy I would not be getting this to you so go show her some love. Also, because of the stress of all of that I went ahead and decided to start wrapping up the story...Not much longer now folks! (Don't worry I'm already plotting a new story to make up for it!) Also, fun announcement on the flip side!**

 **Chapter 9**

A throat clearing pulled them apart and Hermione looked, wide eyed, to see Harry standing in the hallway his arms crossed across his chest.

"Uh… hello Harry," Hermione said weakly as she saw Ginny peek out from behind him, a sheepish look on her face.

"Hermione, a word?" the man said at last and Hermione nodded, making to move towards her friend before Draco reached out, stopping her.

"Potter, anything you have to say can be said to both of us. After all, it's because of me she did this-"

Harry narrowed his eyes then, looking at the man intently before he gave one curt nod and moved forward into the room, "Fine. Hermione do you care to explain to me _why_ I got here to discuss the case only to find you turning into my fiancé?"

"Well, you see…wait, fiancé? When did-"

" _Not the point_ ," the man said sternly but Hermione could help it no longer as she pushed past the man to grab Ginny and give her a large hug.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Well, you were kind of busy and I was going to tell you anyway but you were kind of preoccupied when you arrived," Ginny countered.

Hermione felt herself blush at that and she glanced over to where Draco stood, biting her lip as she caught his gaze on her.

"Look, Hermione, I know-"

"Harry," Hermione sighed, "We were careful alright? We used polyjuice and we spoke only to Draco's mother."

Harry pursed his lips but said nothing.

"She did it for me," Draco said when he remained stonily silent. "If you're going to blame anyone it may as well be me."

"Oh, I already do that," Harry assured him, "I just can't believe you would be so-"

Hermione raised a brow at her friend in challenge, "Do you _really_ want to finish that sentence Harry Potter?"

The man sighed, "You were careful?"

"Yes."

"And no one recognized you?"

"No," Hermione assured him, "Except Narcissa and I made sure there were no.. bugs around as well."

Harry relaxed- if only a little- then and Hermione glanced back to Draco to see him staring at her once more, a small grin on his lips.

"I expect you both to be on your _best_ behavior, no more trips."

Hermione nodded, "Of course."

With a sigh he finally relaxed and Hermione pulled him in for a hug, congratulating him and Ginny on their engagement once more.

"It will be a while," Ginny assured her, "A compromise we made. I wear the ring and he waits until I've got at least one world cup."

Hermione smiled as they moved towards the door, "I'm so happy for you both." With one last hug Ginny and Harry left, the latter only throwing one glance over his shoulder before the pair vanished and Hermione closed the door, resting against it as she watched Draco stand up from his perch on the sofa and make his way towards her.

"Thank you," he said as he reached her, reaching out to pull her hand into his and giving her a tug until she fell against him.

"For what?"

"For taking me to see my mother, for standing up to your friends… for letting me stay here. For buying that damned portrait to begin with," she grinned as he leaned down to place a soft kiss upon her lips. "Why did you buy that portrait?"

Hermione reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers playing at the line of hair there as she stared up at him, "I don't really know to be honest. It felt like… it felt like I needed to. It was a whim I guess."

"Hermione Granger, doing something on a whim?" he chuckled.

"I know, I was surprised to," she smirked. "But it worked out in the end didn't it?"

Draco nodded and leaned down again, his breath fanning across her face as he smiled, "I would say so."

Their lips met again then, more urgent this time and Draco pulled her closer to him. Their bodies were pressed against each other save for Hermione's hands which were working their way between them, searching for the button on his trousers and getting increasingly frustrated as her fingers fumbled.

"Bedroom?" she gasped against his mouth and he nodded but didn't pull away, instead reaching down to lift her up, his hands gripping her arse roughly. She wrapped her legs around his hips, leaning into the want she could feel pressing against her as she leaned down to plant a kiss on his neck.

The trip from the living room to her bedroom was short and for a moment, Hermione wondered if Draco had apparated them there before he gently tossed her on the bed and all logical thoughts left her.

She shimmied out of her own pants, watching as Draco shed himself of his trousers and then his shirt before he crawled up the mattress towards her.

"Are you sure you-" he started but was cut off as Hermione pulled him down on top of her.

"Draco-" she murmured breathlessly.

"Mhmm?" he hummed as he pulled away to kiss a trail down on her collarbone.

"Just shut up," she commanded and he pulled back to meet her smiling face before she rolled them over so that she was straddling his thighs, his cock pressed against her heat.

Quickly she reached down to pull off her shirt, tossing it somewhere over her shoulder but not bothering to care to watch where it landed. Draco hummed in approval as his hands travelled up to cup her breasts and the thrill of his touch travelled down her spine and pooled between her legs.

Without as much as a second thought she positioned herself over him and took in his length, moaning as he filled her up.

Hermione had had sex before but as she sat, motionless, atop Draco Malfoy she almost forgot how to breathe; the sensation of his cock inside her was like she was being lit on fire from the inside out. She gasped as Draco's long fingers found her hips and slowly he started to move her against him. Her need took over then and she began to move herself. Draco's fingers never moved as she slid up and down his cock, the feeling budding inside of her, and it wasn't until Draco cried out, his fingers digging little half-moons into her hips that she let go as well, his name falling from her lips.

They lay there for a while after, the shadows moving across the room with the sun, connected in the aftermath of their lovemaking until finally, Hermione spoke, "That was-"

"I know," Draco breathed, his hand reaching up to push a stray curl out of her face.

She surged forward then, kissing him once more before she pulled away and Draco rolled out of the bed and grabbed her wand. "Do you mind?"

Hermione shook her head and Draco quickly cleaned himself up before setting her wand back on the table and bending down to pick up a discarded clothing item. Quietly they moved around, finding their discarded bits of clothing and putting them on and for a moment, Hermione was worried that whatever had happened between them was fleeting. As she finished pulling her shirt on however, Draco reached out, tugging her up and tilting her chin up softly until she was looking at him before bending down to kiss her once more.

She smiled before she pulled away, "come on, let's find something to eat."

* * *

The pair worked well together, Hermione realized as they flitted around her kitchen. It was almost like a dance, the two of them moving about as they made their meal, punctuated only by the pauses in which one of them would stop the other. Hermione would brush against him, her hand trailing down his arm or Draco would pin her against the counter as he reached for something above her. It was during one of those latter times that Hermione spun around, using the surprise to her advantage as she pulled him down to her, their lips meeting once more in an impassioned kiss. So enraptured with each other were they that they didn't notice the sound of the key in the lock or the door opening widely until their intruder spoke.

"And what the fucking hell do you think you're doing?" Ron's voice boomed and Hermione pulled her lips from Draco's hurriedly to see him turning a rather bright shade of red.

"Ronald-" she started.

The man was loathe to listen however as he pulled his wand and Hermione groaned, pulling her own from her sleeve as he pointed his at Draco and she pointed hers at him, "Get away from him 'Mione."

"Don't tell me what to do Ronald," she snapped back before she squared her shoulders, "What are you even doing here?"

"I knew there was something up with this ferret. First that bloody portrait you couldn't take your eyes off of and now this?

Draco stepped forward, slightly in front of Hermione. "Weasley, look, this isn't what it looks like-"

"Stay out of this, _ferret_ ," Ron spat.

"Ronald, please! If you will just listen to us we can explain-"

"Explain what? That you two are sleeping together? How long has that been going on?"

"Our relationship is none of your concern-"

"So you admit that you two are, in fact, in a relationship?"

Hermione groaned, her hair frizzing at the magic surging within her. "Ron, for one bloody moment, can you please just shut, up! Or so help me, I will _make_ you."

Ron scoffed. "I'd like to see you tr-" He couldn't finish his sentence as Hermione threw a nonverbal spell his way, rendering him unable to move or speak.

"There, now that we have that settled, maybe you'll finally listen," Hermione huffed, pocketing her wand. She could see Ron throwing daggers at her with his eyes, but she didn't care.

Draco just stared at her in amazement, unable to speak as well, but for entirely different reasons. Hermione, oblivious, started talking.

"For the past year, Draco has been trapped in that portrait, the same one that I bought at that antique shop. For some reason, I was pulled to it, and I'm glad I was because that's what lead me to believe that there was something more to the portrait than meets the eye. As you can see, Draco is out now, but the question still remains is _who_ would have put him in there in the first place." She could see that Ron's anger in his eyes lessened, though only slightly. It wouldn't last long as she continued, "And as for what's happening between me and Draco? That is none of your concern. We broke up! You can't tell me who I can or cannot be with. I have the right to choose who I want to be, not you, not Harry, not anyone. Just me."

Hermione stopped to catch her breath and calm down. She was about to start talking again when Draco placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look at him for the first time. The face he wore was one of realization. "Draco?" she asked.

"I just remembered who put me in that portrait…" he said, his voice cracking.

Hermione searched his eyes, flitting between one and the other before shaking her head. "Who was it?"

He looked down at her, gave a slight shrug, and said. "Me."

 **A/N: So a few of you (quite a few of you actually) have asked if I have a twitter for my writing. Unfortunately I'm horrendous at remembering to tweet (6 kids.) But I do spend copious amounts of time on facebook so I've decided to start a writing page. I'll post excerpts, ask opinions, and give insights into the stories I post. You can find me on face book under Sweet Little Bullet you should be able to type in / Sweet Little Bullet and find me! (no spaces!) Can't wait to see you there!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable works.**

 **A/N: I am horrible you guys. I am so incredibly sorry for the wait on this. I lost touch with it with all of the medical issues my daughter was having. I am not entirely pleased with this chapter but you all had waited long enough. I really hope it appeases you all. Also, I already have a few new things in the works so please stick around for those! (You can find me on facebook under my penname. Or you can pm me here! I love chatting!) -S**

 **Chapter 10**

"What do you mean you?" she asked, whirling around to face him.

"I mean that _I'm_ the reason I was in that portrait."

"But how? And-and why?"

Draco shook his head, "I found a spell in one of the books in our library at the manor, it was- difficult and delicate but-"

Malfoy sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, "You said you deserved a right to choose. Granger my whole life has been laid out before me since before I was old enough to know what it all meant. I- I detested it. My father pushed me to join the ranks of the Dark Lord, my education was bought and paid for before I was even conceived. I did what I was told, followed orders like a good little heir but there was- there was this witch who had my attention and I couldn't get her out of my head. On the night I disappeared my father had told, no- ordered me to fulfill a marriage contract I had been avoiding since my youth."

"You put yourself inside of a portrait to keep from getting married?" she asked, raising a brow.

"No. Well, yes, but not _just_ that. You see, my betrothed… well she loved someone else. Had for as long as I could remember."

"Sounds familiar," she snarked and ignored the pointed glare he gave her before he continued.

"I knew I _could_ do what I was told. Marry the pureblood witch, have pureblood babies. I had been following orders all my life after all but I couldn't do it. Not to her, not to me…not without us both losing something-someone important to us."

"So you what, decided to disappear? What would have happened if you hadn't been found Draco? What would you have done if you had been trapped in there for _centuries_?" she seethed.

Draco frowned, "But that's the thing… the spell I used Granger I _should_ have been trapped in there for centuries."

"What?"

His jaw clenched, "I knew you were with the Weasel, the last I knew you were happy with him and I thought- well I thought it would be better to be somewhere else. Somewhere you weren't."

"Then how-"

"I'm afraid that was me-" The pair whirled around then to find Narcissa Malfoy on the arm of no other than Harry Potter stepping through the grate.

"Mother?"

"Hermione why is Ronald soundlessly yelling at me."

"Oh bugger," she swore as she pulled her wand and undid the spell on the man as he swore at her- loudly. "Well, it would help if you'd just shut up on occasion."

He glared at her but she rolled her eyes, turning back to Narcissa.

"You said-" Hermione started to accuse her.

The woman's eyebrows raised, "I lied Miss Granger, surely you remember what I did for your friend over there?"

Hermione nearly shriveled under the woman's intense gaze but she felt Draco's hand on her elbow as he stepped up next to her.

"Mother," he warned.

The woman sighed, "I believe we should sit? Maybe some tea?"

"I'll make sure Ron here gets home and I'll uh… be back." Harry said and Hermione threw him a questioning glance. "Don't worry, I've already got her statement."

They waited until Harry had stepped into the grate with Ron following behind before Narcissa finally started to speak.

"You see Miss Granger, it's been no secret for me how my son has felt about you all these years. When Lucius told me of the plans to marry him to Miss Parkinson I was vehemently against it-"

"You said she was beneath me," Draco supplied.

"She's a perfectly nice young woman but I also knew she was drawn to another. The match was doomed to begin with."

"You suggested the Greengrass girl-"

"Daphne?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head, "Astoria. But that still doesn't explain why I'm here and why-"

"Tori is a very nice young lady, though a little dim," Narcissa defended, "It was my hopes that you would outgrow your little schoolboy crush. When it became clear that wasn't going to happen I started looking for other options for breaking a magically binding contract. I had no idea what you had planned love until it was too late."

"You took the portrait to the woman in the shop?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa looked put out for a moment before she pulled a flask from her bag and put it on the table, "Miss Granger, I _am_ the woman in the shop."

Hermione picked it up, popping the top to smell the Polyjuice potion inside, she pulled a face before she handed it to Draco to inspect himself.

"That still doesn't explain _why_ ," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"That is the simplest part my dear," Narcissa said easily, "You were drawn to the portrait of my son were you not?"

Hermione nodded.

"You were drawn to it not because of what it was or the magic it contained my dear but because of _who_ it contained. The spell that _should_ have kept my son trapped inside was broken easily because-"

"True loves kiss…"

"What?" Both of the Malfoys said in unison.

Hermione shook her head as the fireplace dinged and Harry stepped through. She bit her lip before she continued, "It's- well, a muggle thing. In our fairytales, the stories of magic- the curses can often be broken by true love's kiss."

Draco raised a brow, "I'm sorry to break this to you but that was- well, slightly more than a kiss."

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she looked at Narcissa's face across from her and Harry blanched as he moved further into the room, "Draco-" she scolded quietly.

The man had the audacity to laugh at her then and his hand found hers, pulling it into his grasp and bringing it up to brush a kiss against her knuckles.

"The spell was broken my dear because it was you who did it." the woman smiled at them both as she pulled her bag to her once more and reached out for Draco's hand. He didn't hesitate as he slid his palm into hers and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I have done many things in my life but you, my sweet boy are the best yet. I only hoped to give you the love you deserved."

Draco smiled at his mother then and moved from his seat, pulling her into his arms and kissing her forehead, "Thank you mother."

"Now, I do believe Mister Potter and I have some business to attend to-" the woman said.

"Wait, Potter, you're not going to bring charges surely-"

Harry sighed as he pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, "Well she did make false reports with the ministry-"

"In the hopes that Hermione Granger would be tasked with helping-"

"But she also saved my life once before," Harry said firmly and with a shrug he turned, "My fiance and I have a date at the muggle movies tonight and everyone involved is safe...Hermione if you want to get on this paperwork for me?"

Hermione shook her head, "Right away."

The man laughed as he turned to Naricssa, "After you?"

The woman smiled and reached out to pat Draco's cheek once more before she leaned in, her lips near his ear as she whispered something and then kissed him lightly on the cheek, tweaking his nose once before she pulled away completely.

"Goodnight Miss Granger," she said with a smile and Hermione couldn't help but smile back as she watched the witch elegantly step into the grate and disappear with Harry Potter hot on her heels.

Hermione turned to Draco, her eyes wide, "What just happened?"

Draco laughed as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips, pulling her against him once more, "I think we just found out we're soul mates, you saved me from certain solitude, and my mother showed once again just why she was destined to be in Slytherin."

Hermione blew a breath out of her mouth, watching as a stray curl flew out of her face, as she nodded, "That sounds about right. You know what else I learned?"

"Hmm?" Draco asked, leaning in for a kiss.

"I'm never buying another portrait again," she whispered just as she met his lips with her own.

* * *

~~~~~~A few years later~~~~~~~

Hermione was rubbing lotion on her hands when her husband walked into the bedroom, rubbing a hand over his scruffy jaw.

"Did you get them down?"

"What? Oh, yeah, they're out," the man said distractedly as he slid into the bed and laid down with a groan.

She raised a brow as she joined him, rolling over to wrap herself around him.

"Why we agreed to a sleepover with that child-"

"Stop," she laughed, swatting him on the chest.

"Jamie Potter is a nightmare," the man shuddered as Hermione laughed again.

"Your daughter is no peach either," she pointed out thinking of the epic tantrum their three year old had had the other day in the middle of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Our daughter is an angel," the man laughed, leaning down to kiss his wife's lips. "Oh and by the way she colored on the post today."

Hermione rolled her eyes but pulled herself up to accio the mail into her hands. "How'd you get them to sleep anyway?"

"Hmmm? Oh, I told them the story of the princess saving the prince."

Hermione laughed, "Again? I'm surprised she isn't tired of it by now."

Draco laughed, "Well, she did tell me I wasn't telling it right halfway through and then I just listened as she finished it."

Hermione laughed to herself as she flicked through the envelopes in her hand one by one until she landed on the crisp white envelope in her hand with the gold and green wax seal. Intrigued she slid it open and read the words printed on the parchment inside, "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Why did we receive an invitation to Ronald Weasley and Pansy Parkinson's engagement party?"

"Oh," Draco sat up, moving to look at the invitation she had in her hands as he laughed, "Took her long enough. Let's hope she didn't have to lock herself in a portrait to get it done."

"Wait, you mean-"

Draco laughed as he cut her off with a kiss, pushing her back down on the bed behind them, the post long forgotten.


End file.
